Requiem for an angel
by Spoocky
Summary: "Cas! You all right?" "No". Castiel looses his contacts with Heaven and suffers from the consequences. Set in the early season 5, may turn a little AU. First "Supernatural" fanfiction, please enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I owe no characters nor names, only the story, no wish to infringe copyright...yada yada yada...Summing up: I don't gain anything from this.

Castiel was back. The Winchesters had seen him blown into pieces but there he was, to their side, ready to carry on their battles. But at which cost! He had to renounce to most of his powers and to fight against his brothers while God seemed to have disappeared from the Universe. Nonetheless, he didn't give up but kept on help the boys in any way he could even if he was now busy on both their hunts and the research of God.

Sadly, this could not last forever.

One day, the brothers were hanging out at Bobby's after having killed a gang of disguised demons that were creating troubles in the nearby countryside by destroying fields and mutilating cattle. The hunters were enjoying a round of beers when a sudden, and familiar, sound startled them. Having recognized the rustle of heavenly feathers, Dean rushed to the front door and was greeted by the well-known grave voice

"Hello, Dean."

Despite the firmness in his tone, the angel looked more scruffy than usual: his skin was way paler than normal, his deep, blue eyes were shadowed and had bags under them, his clothes were creased and his hair ruffled.

The hunter was shocked: "Cas! You all right?"  
"No".

Given this response, the black-haired collapsed and fell face first towards Dean, who caught him into supporting arms before he could smash himself on the floor.

"Sammy!" the hunter called out, bent under the dead weight of their friend "Sammy bring your lazy ass here! Now!".

The younger brother hurried to his side and helped him to sustain the unconscious angel "What's wrong with him?"  
"Do I look like I know? Come on now: help me to carry him inside. Silly questions later."  
Both the brothers took one of the angel's arms on their shoulders and dragged him into the living room, where Sam laid the unconscious form on the couch, while Dean closed the door.

In a minute, Bobby was with them: "What…"  
"Again! I don't know!"  
"Lower your voice with me, idjit! It's not like you and your angel can come here and collapse as you wish! This is still my house!"  
"Calm down you two! He's coming around."

The hunters squatted near the fallen creature, who was slowly opening his eyes, moaning. His unfocused glaze passed on the faces next to him before his eyelids closed again in a sigh of relief: "I made it!"  
Dean put a reassuring hand on his shoulder "What's the matter, Cas? Are you hurt?"  
The angel shook his head in denial: " I'm only very weak. 'Fried' as Samuel would say. I just can't understand why…"

His voice broke and the hunter tightened his grip: "It's fine, Cas. It really is: everyone could use a break every now and then. Isn't it so, Sam?"  
The younger Winchester nodded: "Just give yourself a little time and your strength will return. The only thing you need now is some rest."

In that exact moment, Bobby came back into the room from upstairs: "Hosts' room's ready, bring him up."  
"H-hosts' room?"  
"Of course, you idjit! Were you really planning to sleep on that sofa? Neck-ache guaranteed, I swear. Come on, you two: help him upstairs before he passes out again!"  
Obediently, the brothers lifted Castiel, passed his arms on their shoulders and supported his back, half dragging him to the stairs. While passing in front of Bobby, the angel muttered his thanks, making him smile, briefly  
"Don't worry, boy. You deserve it."  
Then he left to draw other sigils to keep both demons and angel away, in an attempt to shield his ill friend from the battle.

Meanwhile the Winchesters had managed to bring the angel in the spare bedroom which was next to the one reserved to them and almost in front of the stairs. On the newly made bed, the house's master had left for them an old T-shirt and a pair of a faded pajamas' trousers. With the help of Sam, Castiel managed to get rid of his clothes and to put on Bobby's. His resulting look was childish to say the least: given Jimmy Novak's already skinny frame, added to further weight loss, he now had the aspect of a young boy forced to wear an older brother's things.

This interpretation was endorsed by a small yawn that escaped the angel's mouth, followed by an expression of curious amazement, surely he hadn't experienced such thing this far.  
"Ok, big boy. Time to sleep."  
Dean guided Castiel on the bed and covered him up.

"Need anything else?"  
The angel shook his head.  
"Ok, sleep then. I'll bring you some food later."  
"Dean, please. I'm not in need of eating."  
The older Winchester rolled his eyes: "Maybe you don't feel the need of eating, but I can swear you need to put a few more meat on those bones if you wish to be fit for the battle!"

The exhausted-looking man frowned a little but didn't reply, so the hunters left.  
Before closing the door behind him, Sam turned his head to their friend: "If you need anything give us a call. For anything. Got it?"

Eyes already closed, Castiel nodded briefly and surrendered to sleep.

* * *

The boys went downstairs slowly, both with a worried look on their faces.  
"How serious can it be?"  
"Don't know, Dean. It may only be a moment of exhaustion…I've never seen him in such a bad shape before, though."  
"To be honest, we don't have many information about angels, either."  
"Guess some research is overdue."  
"For sure!"

On their way to the kitchen, the Winchesters met with a slightly annoyed Bobby:"Balls! Those idjit angels had nothing else to do than brawl within themselves! And I had to cover my house in sigils to keep them away. Balls!"  
"Whoa! Whoa, man! Lower your tone, our feathery friend has just fallen asleep."  
"Oh, yeah, right. How is he?"  
"We are not sure. He thinks of a sort of depletion but can't be certain."  
"I've never heard of an angelic breakdown!"  
"Neither have we. That's the reason why we have decided to do some research."

The hunters spent the rest of the day deepened in search of a legend or myth that could give sense to Castiel's symptoms, but without results.

In the early evening both Dean and Bobby had given up and were discussing what to make for dinner, when a sudden cry from the fallen angel's bedroom made the Winchesters run to their friend.

Author's notes:

There we are! I wish you enjoyed but both positive or negative reviews would make me very happy! So...what do you think about leaving one?


	2. Chapter 2

Desclaimer: I'm too lazy - and in an hurry - to write it again. Please go to Chapter 1. Thank you.

What they found would have become their worse fear in the next few days.

Castiel was lying on his back, his body stiff and tense, his hands clenched on the comforter as his fingers were longing to dig holes into it; his face was pale and sweaty, while his teeth were clenched beyond the chapped lips. He was gasping heavily. Sam rushed to his bedside, lifting his pillow so he could breath more easily, and Dean disappeared into the bathroom next to the bedchamber.  
He remerged a few minutes later, holding a plastic bowl full of water and a small towel.

His brother went immediately to the other side of the bed and he put the basin on the nightstand, dampening the towel and using it to sponge the angel's forehead, face and neck.  
Relieved by the fresh touch of the washcloth, Castiel tilted slightly his head in its direction and his eyelids cracked open: "Dean…" his voice was hoarse and weary-sounding.

The older Winchester exchanged a worried glance with his brother before answering: "Yes, Cas, I'm here. Don't worry: we've got you. You're safe."  
Sam cleared his throat and asked: "Hey, Cas, have you any idea of what could be wrong?"  
The fallen angel shook his head "I've… awaken?" the brothers confirmed the term and he went on "I've awaken abruptly when I've started to feel a sudden and highly unpleasant sensation in my wings"  
"For 'unpleasant sensation" you mean 'pain', I presume?"  
A brief nod  
"Ok. What kind of pain, then?"  
"It's difficult to describe…they were contracting and relaxing very quickly and…painfully."  
"Were you having cramps?"

The angel nodded again but, this time, a spasm ran all over his body, his back arched and he clenched his teeth, obliviously in a great pain. The brothers could no nothing for their friend except trying to soothe him a little while his sufferance went on, until he finally fainted, collapsing against the pillow.

Sam let out a sigh of frustration: it was hard seeing such a devote and fascinating creature hurting at the point of passing out, but it was even harder knowing to be one reason of his sufferance and being unable to do anything to prevent or alleviate it.  
Dean sat on the mattress next to the angel, sponging his forehead in an almost mechanical gesture. By the tension in his jaw and neck, his younger brother could tell that he was doing so to prevent himself from kicking every piece of furniture in the room to take his anger out, and could not blame him.

They remained like that until Castiel's breath adjusted, displaying his passage from unconsciousness to a deep slumber.

"What do we do now?"  
Dean lifted his concerned glance from the sleeper's pale face to his brother's and tightened his lips, shocking his head: " I don't know, Sammy. I honestly don't know. We'll need to keep an eye on him tonight, alternating maybe."  
"Sounds good"  
"Ok, then. I'm taking the first round. You go down and help Bobby with dinner."

Once Sam had left, Dean covered the now limp hand of the angel with his, in a vane attempt to offer him some comfort and let him know he wasn't alone. If Castiel ever felt or recognized the contact, the hunter couldn't know, because he never react to it. And this lack of response scared him even more.

* * *

Despite the Winchesters' fears, the night passed without problems. While the three hunters changed place next to the fallen angel, he kept on sleeping, his features twitching every now and then, but otherwise still.

In the late morning, Dean decided to leave and do some shopping. Leaving Sam to keep vigil on Castiel and a snoring Bobby on the couch, the older Winchester took his beloved Impala and went to a near grocery store.  
There, he bought two cartons of ACE juice – which he knew to be a good source of vitamins while sick – some chocolate chips biscuits, and a strawberry pie.

Back at Bobby's, Dean poured a glass of juice and put five biscuits on a little plate and headed for his friend's bedroom, not paying attention to the still-snoring Bobby still on the couch.

He found the door closed and, since his hands were already busy, knocked on it with his foot. Sam opened immediately and let him in. The older brother went to the nightstand and placed the angel's food on it.  
"He's still out, uh?"  
The younger nodded, tightening his lips "He hasn't moved since yesterday evening. Do you want to wake him up?"  
"I'm not sure. He certainly needs rest but it doesn't seem a bad idea to let him have some food: he's become way too thin!"

Luckily, the angel resolved to spare him a difficult decision and woke up by himself, and soon the Winchesters found a pair of curious blue eyes, staring at them. "Dean, Samuel…"  
"Hello, Cas!"  
"Hey, there! We were starting to miss you."  
"How long have I slept?"  
"Sixteen hours, more or less."

Castiel's eyes broadened in amazement: "That's…that's…"  
"A very long time. For sure! But it seems that you needed every minute of it."  
"How do you feel now?"  
"A little better, thank you Samuel."  
"Good to know. By the way, I've brought you some food. Do you wish to eat a little? You look like you haven't fed yourself in ages!"  
"Thank you very much for your offer, Dean. Yes, I think my vessel may use some nourishment."

With the brothers' help the angel moved to a sitting position and managed to finish his juice but to eat only one cookie, before giving up.  
" That's all?!"  
"I've had enough. Again, thank you very much Dean."  
"You've eaten like a bird."  
The angel tilted his head  
"I mean: you've eaten a very little. Are you sure you don't want any more? Those are all yours: me and Sammy have a huge strawberry pie downstairs that's waiting for us!"

Before Castiel could reply, his face twisted into an expression of intense pain and he braced himself, almost curling up.

Sam reached for him and helped him laying down again while his brother hurried to damp a cloth and placed it on the fallen angel's forehead.  
After some moments of what seemed pure agony, Castiel opened his eyes again and fixed his pained and weary look on the older Winchester: "Dean"  
Since the angel's voice was a little more than a whisper, the hunter bent over him and put a reassuring hand on his arm "I'm here, Cas. Try to hold on, ok? It will be over soon."  
"You don't understand…"  
"Understand what?!"

"Dean, I think I'm dying."

The brothers exchanged a startled look before the older tried to calm down the suffering angel: "Now, Cas, don't be a drama queen! I know this must be excruciating but…"  
" I know what's wrong with my wings: they're deteriorating those…" he let out a broken whimper "spasms are remarking their progressive disappearence." "And, what could this mean?"  
"That my Grace is fading. In a slowly way but it is disgregating. Must be caused by the separation from my Father, it's making me fading out, like you would say."  
"Like the Elves in 'The Lord of the Rings'!"  
"Or ET."  
"Dean!"  
"What! You are the nerd that started it! Anyway, Cas, what could be the consequence of this…illness?"

"If we don't find a way to stop it, I've already told you: I'm going to die."  
The angel pronounced this last sentence with a terrifying peaceful tone, as if he had already taught of every consequence and was ready to accept it.

"But there must be something we can do for you, now!"

With a rueful smile, Castiel took one of Sam's hand in his own and made the same with one of Dean: "You are already doing a lot, Samuel. Believe me, you are already doing a lot."

Author's Notes:

Right, folks. Longer chapter this time. Wish you'll like and, perchance, leave a review *puppy eyes*.

Anyway

I wish you all an happy Easter!

If you don't celebrate Easter, I' glad to wish you a wonderful Sunday, then! Seriously, have a nice day, folks!

See you next time!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Blablabla...I don't gain anything from this.

Dean felt his eyes burning with tears he didn't want to shed and something heavy constricting his throat so he left, with an excuse.

There was no need to upset the angel even more by bursting in tears in front of him. Crying wasn't even something the elder Winchester was used to do. But this time it was different. The creature lying - very likely dying - on the bed behind that door didn't only rescued him from the deepest Hell and saved his ungrateful ass from perdition, he had already given his life for the brothers. Now he had sacrificed everything for them and was still ready to die like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Except that this wasn't, this couldn't be natural for a being create for immortality. And still he accepted it. He wasn't even angry with those "monkeys" that caused his fall and were now probably leading him to the gates of Death. He just grabbed their hands and thanked them for what they were doing which reduced to almost nothing in front of what he endured. It wasn't right. It just wasn't right. Why anyone who got close to them had to die?  
Dean simply couldn't understand it, less than everything accept.

The only thing he knew for sure was that they weren't going to leave Castiel vanishing without trying to save him, they weren't giving up on him, not after what he had done. Moreover, the hunters were beginning to perceive the angel as a part of their family: if Bobby could be seen as a sort of fatherly figure, Cas could be something like a third, younger brother.

And there could be no way for a Winchester to turn his back on another, at least not in a definitive way.

Following the train of his thoughts, Dean found himself in the living room, where Bobby was stretching on the couch.  
When the younger hunter saluted him, he yawned and mumbled: "How is our feathery friend doing up there?"  
"Not good, I'm afraid."  
Suddenly the older man became serious and sat upright, ready to receive bad news.

Since the Winchester didn't seem able to decide from where to start, Bobby anticipated him by asking: "Did you learn what the hell is wrong with him, in the end?"  
"We did, actually."  
"And?"  
"And…you're not going to like this."  
"At this point I'm not going to like anything! So speak up, you idjit!"  
"Ok, then. Well…Cas thinks he's dying…"

The older hunter's face became paler: "But how…? I mean, he doesn't seem to be injured and I'm not aware of any sort of disease that could struck down an angel."  
"He says that his Grace is fading out, as a consequence of his Fall. It seems that his angel juice gets weaker and weaker if he separates from his Father."  
"But he's not the only fallen angel you've met! Why this is happening only to him?"

Dean couldn't give an answer to that question and then, before he could even start to think, the room was filled with the noise of someone running down the wooden stairs.

A few second later, Sam entered the room, frowning and in an hurry.  
"Did Cas have another attack?"  
"What? Oh! No, he looks fine at the moment."  
"Why did you left him alone?! He might get worse from a moment to another, perhaps die for what we know!"  
"Dean, calm down, would you, please?! I'm here because Cas asked me to."  
The older brother gave up screaming and stared at him, crossing his arms.  
"Thank you very much. He requested me to read him 'The Lord of The Rings', so I came here to try and fetch a copy if Bobby has one."

To Dean's greatest amazement, the older hunter indicated to Sam one of his bookcase.

"It should be there: third shelf on the left."  
Sam crossed the messy room and followed the indication. In a moment, he had extracted a thick volume with a red cover.  
"Be careful with that: it's a complete and rare edition with a prologue and an appendix with the mythology and languages of Middle Earth."  
"Thanks, Bobby. Cas will be enthusiast!"  
"Well, I can do a little more for that boy and it's still less that he deserves. Take your time to read it and make sure he'll enjoy."  
"I'll do my best! Again, thank you."

As the younger Winchester disappeared on the stairs, his brother began to chuckle, making the house master blush, if with anger or embarrassment couldn't be known.  
"What?! Stop laughing, idjit! I kept it for the mythology part!"  
"Yeah, sure, the mythology!" and he given in to a proper laugh, while Bobby put on his inseparable hat with an annoyed "Balls!".

* * *

Sam remained at Castiel's bedside, reading for him, until the angel fell into an almost peaceful sleep, only occasionally twitching in discomfort. After touching his friend's forehead and finding it warmer than normal, the younger Winchester sighed, left the book on the nightstand and headed downstairs.

He found his brother in the kitchen, sitting in front of the laptop with a large slice of strawberry pie next to him.  
"Found anything?"  
"Nothing."

Dean switched off the computer and pulled his plate closer.  
Between a mouthful of sweet and another, he managed to ask: "How's Cas?"  
"Asleep. He doesn't seem to be in a great amount of pain, but I'm afraid his temperature's rising."

The elder brother rubbed his eyes in frustration for their bad luck and finally looked to Sam's face. "You look fried!"  
"I am fried, indeed."  
"Why don't you go to sleep, then. I'll go to him once I'm finished."

With a nod, the younger brother left and went in their bedroom.

After having eaten the last crumb of his pie's slice, Dean stretched himself and moved to the fallen angel's room. Castiel was sleeping on his left side, probably to ease his aching back. Thus, his contracted shoulders were facing the entrance and the hunter found less difficulties in rearranging the sheets and comforter so that only the angel's face and partially stretched out right arm could be seen. The sleeper stirred a little but didn't awake.

The older Winchester moved to the other side of the bed and sat on the mattress next to him.

Cradling his friend's limp hand in his own, he left his eyes to the ceiling and, almost without believing himself, started to pray:

"Hey! Hum… I don't know if You're listening and I can't tell if this is Your priority in the whole universe. But look: Your son's dying down here. Please, look at him: he's very sick and pained and we can do nothing to help. You're the only one that can save him! I know that recently the whole family thing has been messed up a bit…but why should You abandon him? I've never seen anyone who's more faithful and loyal than Cas. He made that choice for us, so blame me instead. Get me punished if You want: I've already been through Hell and I'm not scared anymore. It's all my fault and I'm sorry. Please! Please, I'm begging You: don't take Cas' life away. We can't stand to lose him too!"

And there he remained, cradling that pale limb in his hands, waiting for an answer.

Any answer.

* * *

 **Author's notes** :

Review, please, you will? *Jedi's hand jesture*


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No money, nor pie, nor anything gained from this. Only for fun (mostly mine and of the readers, not so much for poor Cas).

Note: this chapter contains a scene that I find really weird but, for some reason, couldn't help write it down…anyway please, take note that this is **NOT** intended as a SLASH fiction. Thank you and enjoy your reading.

The afternoon turned into evening and the evening into night, Sam had awaken and taken Dean's place next to Castiel's bed so that the older brother could go to sleep.

After some hours Dean was recalled abruptly to consciousness by a sudden cry of pain. He jolted upright and gave a look to the alarm clock on his nightstand. 1:30 am. Great. He knew to be unable to help his friend in any way and tried to go back to sleep, trying to concentrate more on Sammy's words of comfort and shushing sounds than on the angel's moans…until the whining became a proper crying. At that point he could stand no more and ran immediately to the bedchamber next to his.

The view made his chest clench: the fallen angel was lying on his side, facing Sam, but his face was buried in the pillow and his hands were gripping tight the younger Winchester's arms, which were supporting his shoulders.

His entire body was shaken by spasms and sobs, the pain being so strong to make him cry.

Aware of his brother's arrival, Sam lifted his head and looked at him, unsure of what to do.  
"Lift him up."  
"What?"  
"You've heard me. Now lift him up, quickly!"  
With a sigh, he did as his brother said, picking the still crying angel like he was only a little child, letting him press his face on his chest and his hand clenching his shirt.  
He followed his brother in the bathroom.

Dean had opened the water and was filling the bath tub.  
"What's on your mind?"  
"Usually, when you have a contracture, the first thing to do is to warm your muscles up. Isn't it?"  
Sam nodded  
"This should help him to ease the tension in his back a little…and don't look at me that way! I know: it's weird, but it's better than nothing."

They sat the hurting creature on the edge of the tub and stripped him to his underwear, which he refused to get removed.  
Then the older brother took his sweaty head in his hands while the other lifted his legs and they eased him in the warm water, leaving only his head outside. The whimpering subsided and Castiel began to gasp, trying to regularize his breath, while Dean washed his face.  
Slowly, the brothers helped him to sit and poured some water on his aching back, helping his clasped muscles to relax.

They helped him to get out and folded a huge towel around his body. Then Sam gave him another pair of boxer but the angel, given his ingrained shyness, refused any help to put them on. The simply process of re wearing his pajamas drained him of all his strength and Dean had to carry him back to the room. It was almost funny: the once magnificent creature that had raised him from the deepest of Hell was now in his arms, looking so pale and fragile, a mere shadow of his past glory.

Saddened, the older Winchester laid his bundle on the bed, making sure to put him on his side, and rearranged the covers around his shaking shoulders.

"Thank you"  
Castiel felt a comforting hand leaning on his head, followed by his friend's voice "It's ok, buddy. It really is. Do you feel any better now?"  
The fallen angel nodded slightly  
"Good. Try to get some rest now. Sammy's going to stay by your side for a while and I'll be in the next room. Let us know if you need anything, ok?"  
Another small nod and the hunter left exchanging a worried glance with his brother, who was sitting next to the bed again.

A few seconds later, Dean was back into his bed and fell asleep listening to his little brother's voice reading for their angel.

* * *

Two days passed by, bringing further sufferance and taking away Castiel's strength. He had completely given up eating, the boys had only managed to make him drink a couple glasses of fruit juice, to which Bobby had thought to add some holy water. The fallen creature was becoming so helpless and fragile that Dean had suggested to carry him to the Panic Room for further protection. But he had refused, begging the hunters to let him in the light, that reminded him more of his Home. They didn't have the heart to force him and were left to sit at his bedside, with a growing sense of worry as the attacks turned into more frequent and painful ones.

The only comfort that the Winchesters and Bobby could offer to their friend reduced to vigil on him, sponging his face and taking hold of his hand when the pain was so unbearable to make him scream or cry. Only in the moments when he was fully conscious, the angel would have tried to make some conversation or asked to someone to read for him. In both occasions he could be seen listening with attention, despite his fatigue. Those moments, though, were lessening, displaying the advancement of his agony.

In the afternoon of the third day after their forced-bathed the angel, both Dean and Sam were having a snack in the kitchen, both with grim expressions, while Bobby was watching over Cas, who had just collapsed after one of the worse attacks so far.

No words were being spoken but the brothers were deeply aware that, in spite of a remotely hypothetical miracle, it was only a question of days, if not hours, before they would have to add another mourning to their already long list.

The silence between them had grown heavier and heavier and the tension rise until Dean punched the table in anger.  
"This is not going to help in any way, you know."  
"Oh fuck! What are we supposed to do? Stay here and wait for Cas to burn out like an old candle?!"  
"Look, there must be something…"  
"What, then? We've tried everything!"  
"Maybe…"  
"No, Sam! We're really out of options now. Do you know what I did the other day? I prayed, Sam. I took his hand in mine and asked Big Boss to help. You know what happened then? Nothing! Just a huge filthy bunch of nothing!"

Before the youngest brother could attempt to calm him down, a sudden knocking on the front door interrupted them. Knowing that Dean was too pissed off to treat anyone in a civil way, Sam went to the door and opened it.

Immediately, he slammed it shut again.

* * *

Author's notes:

*clears throat* Heree's Jhoonnyy!

Who may this mysterious visitor be? We'll discover it soon, I hope.

Why don't you leave a review in the spare time?

(By the way…did you get that reference?)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own nor the characters nor the songs used, only the plot. Enjoy your reading. Or not enjoy your reading. There is no try.

"What the fuck you did that for?!"  
"It wasn't anyone you'd long to meet, believe me."  
" Seriously?! He might be here to help Cas!"

Before Sam could even try to stop him, his brother rushed to the door and threw it open.

"Son of a bitch!"

In front of the Winchester was standing the short yet intimidating figure of the Trickster/Archangel Gabriel, who was hopping on his heels and nodding, hands clasped behind his back. "Cute! It's always lovable to see how your good manners keep improving. That was very rude, considering it was you the one who invited me here."

"I didn't invite you anywhere!"  
The archangel gave him a slide-glare "You sure? Hum…let me remind you of three days ago then: 'I don't know if You can hear me, or if You're even there'…no, wait. That's Disney. Your prayer was more like…"  
"Ok, stop it! What are you doing here? How did you find us?"  
"You aren't very intuitive, are you? Obliviously my Father heard you and sent me to help. He told me where to find Castiel and gave me the power to pass your sigils…only if you allow me to."  
"This means you require my permission to enter, like a vampire!"

Gabriel frowned while the older Winchester started laughing, enjoying his revenge. "This isn't funny, you moron! My brother's dying over there!"

Dean regained his composure and let the archangel come in, while Sam closed the door behind them.

The three went to the living room, where the former Trickster sprawled on the couch.  
"You don't look too much in an hurry to help Cas."  
Rolling his eyes, their angel's last chance explained: "First point: Daddy has heard your prayer as soon as you said it, but for some reason contacted me only last night; we've just finished talking. Second point: my brother seems to be asleep at the moment and you know better than me he hadn't so much rest lately. Third: I need to rest before attending to my duty because I'll need my Grace at its full power."

"But what's happening to him? I mean, he's not the first to fall and Anna didn't have those problems…"

"Now that's a really good question. You must be the intelligent brother."  
Dean shot Sam a dirty look that meant 'the usual nerd', but didn't interrupt as Gabriel went on: "Castiel is facing this situation because he isn't just falling: he's vanishing. He's been cut off the main line, none of our brothers has kept in touch with him and Dad, well, is not so talkative, moreover you have to consider that he's still a youngling. He was one of the last angels to be created, probably that's the reason why he's so close with you humans…nevermind…what was I saying? Oh, yes. Castiel's also a lot more tenderhearted and affectionate than our brothers commonly are and that's a reason why he's so afflicted by his condition. Do you know what an angel's Grace is made of?"  
Both the Winchesters denied  
"Well, our Grace is an essence of our Father's Love and Creative Power. Because that's what creation is: an act of love. Then we could discuss on how the creatures are taken care of, but now there's not time for this. What you need to know now is that Castiel is missing Home and his Father's love and this is destroying his Grace. That's why I'm here: I'm the one that's closest to him and the only one who can help him. He needs to feel his family with him again."

"So that's what Cas meant!"  
"Pardon?"  
"The other day I was feeling frustrated because we didn't seem to be helping him in any way. Then Cas took my-our hands in his and said that we were doing a lot."  
Gabriel nodded: "Yeah. You've become a second family for him and your care may have acted as an anchor, but his needs are beyond your possibility. He needs another angel."

Suddenly, the archangel frowned and glanced at the ceiling "Looks like my little brother's awake. Time to make my entrance."

The Winchester led the way but, right outside Castiel's room, Gabriel froze and blanched.  
Before the brothers could figure out what had scared him so much, the archangel touched their shoulders to make them see what he could see.

They saw, understood, and their hearts clenched at the sight.

Castiel was lying on his right side, his arms and shoulders shaken by spasms while Bobby was trying to hold a cold compress on the base of his neck. But the worst part were his wings: they had reduced to less than a third of the dimension they had when Dean first saw them in the warehouse, bones were visible and stuck down the few left raven feathers, some of the which were only barely hanging in place. Then, under their impotent glares, a black feather fell and dissolved in the air before reaching the sheets, causing a gasp of pain from the creature, despite the old hunter's words of comfort.

Gabriel released his grip and rushed to his brother's bedside, startling Bobby: "What the…?!"  
"It's alright, Bobby. He's a friend."  
The archangel gave the hunters a worried slide glare and Dean added "Why don't you come down with us and have a drink, we'll explain you everything."

The older hunter snorted heavily but followed the brothers downstairs, leaving the angels by themselves.

The archangel caressed his brother's sweaty forehead and started pulling his dark hair back and whispering: "Castiel, can you hear me?"  
Castiel moaned softly and his eyelids cracked half open: "G-Ga…briel?"  
The other nodded and cupped his brother's cheek in his hand "Yes it's me, little one. I'm here."

"I-I've prayed. I've…prayed a lot…"  
"Hush, hush now. Don't try to speak, save your strength. I'm here. It's all that matters now."  
As the younger began to cry, Gabriel picked him up into a tight hug.

As he felt his brother's hands clenching desperately on his back, the archangel pulled him closer and started rocking him, murmuring in his ear: "It's ok, little brother, it's okay. I've got you. Cling onto me. Cling onto me, Cas. Don't let go. Come on, it's alright. You're going to be ok." He kept on talking like that for a while but his brother couldn't stop crying.

Gabriel thought it could be better for him to get some rest and considered singing a lullaby in Enochian. But then he remembered that there wasn't any he liked so much and opted for a more human and unusual one. As he kept cradling Castiel, the archangel started to sing softly:

" _Come, stop your crying  
It will be alright  
Just take my hand  
Hold it tight  
_ _I will protect you  
From all around you  
I will be here Don't you cry_

 _For one so small,  
You seem so strong  
_ _My arms will hold you,  
Keep you safe and warm  
This bond between us  
Can't be broken  
I will be here  
Don't you cry_

 _'Cause you'll be in my heart  
Yes, you'll be in my heart  
From this day on  
Now and forever more  
You'll be in my heart  
No matter what they say  
You'll be here  
In my heart  
Always_ _"_

By the time he had finished, Castiel's crying had reduced to sobs and shacking gasps, and he was still clenching hard onto his brother, who started singing again, this time an even more unorthodox lullaby:

" _Talk to me softly  
There is something in your eyes  
Don't hang your head in sorrow  
And please don't cry  
I know how you feel inside I've  
I've been there before  
Something is changing inside you  
And don't you know _

_Don't you cry tonight  
I still love you baby  
Don't you cry tonight  
Don't you cry tonight  
There's a Heaven above you baby  
And don't you cry tonight_

 _Give me a whisper_  
 _And give me a sign_  
 _Give me a kiss before you_  
 _Tell me goodbye_  
 _Don't you take it so hard now_  
 _And please don't take it so bad_  
 _I'll still be thinking of you_  
 _And the times we had, baby_

 _And don't you cry tonight  
Don't you cry tonight  
Don't you cry tonight  
There's a heaven above you baby  
And don't you cry tonight_

 _And please remember that I never lied_  
 _And please remember_  
 _how I felt inside now honey_  
 _You got to make it your own way_  
 _But you'll be alright now sugar_  
 _You'll feel better tomorrow_  
 _Come the morning light now baby_

 _And don't you cry tonight_  
 _And don't you cry tonight_  
 _And don't you cry tonight_  
 _There's a Heaven above you baby_  
 _And don't you cry_  
 _Don't you ever cry_  
 _Don't you cry tonight_  
 _Baby maybe someday_  
 _Don't you cry_  
 _Don't you ever cry_  
 _Don't you cry_  
 _Tonight_

 _"_

When the archangel had stopped, his brother had fell asleep in his arms. Gabriel gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and laid him on the pillow like he would have done with a newborn.

Then he transmuted the chair Bobby had brought to Castiel's bedside into a luxurious and comfortable armchair, where he sat, took hold of his younger brother's hand, and started watching over his sleeping form.

* * *

Author's note:

There we are, folks! Longer chapter this time: my bunnies were a little on the hyperactive side!

Well, this is where the AU comes in since, as you may have noticed, Bobby should be on a wheelchair but is not. My bunnies didn't give me the information on how he has ended out of it so far, it may come out later, but I've chose to describe him as walking and happy less grumpy than usual because it would have been like throwing a bucket of sorrow over the Swamps of Sadness, if you get the reference.

How is it going? Let me know by leaving a review. Again: review or not review, there is no try.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: No owning no gaining. Bunnies just wanna have fun.

Some hours passed and the archangel heard the Winchesters going to bed. Sure that no one would have disturbed, he stretched a wing and covered Castiel's body with it. The younger angel curled up himself more tightly and sighed softly, comforted by the warmth of his brother's Grace hovering on him. Everything seemed just calm and normal but Gabriel didn't consider leaving neither for a second.

That proved to be the best decision he could ever take when his little brother began to stir restlessly under the covers. In less than a minute, spasms started to shake his body and he began moaning and gasping.  
The archangel kneeled to his bedside and caressed his sweaty hair away from his forehead, shushing him gently.  
Castiel's groans softened with the touch but the attack didn't retreat, so Gabriel sang again 'Tarzan's version of Phil Collins' "You'll be in my heart" to shoote him. Unfortunately, even if the angel was conscious of his brother's presence and affection, he was still suffering because of the laceration from Heaven and – although the archangel had always been one of his favorite brothers – Gabriel's words and caresses weren't enough to fill that void.

With a sigh of frustration, the "trickster" rolled his eyes and, snapping his fingers, changed his clothes into a more comfortable purple silk pajama then kicked off his shoes and socks.  
Later he pushed his shaking and almost feverish younger brother aside, slipped under the blankets next to him, and dragged his thin body into a hug, enfolding them both with his wings.

Leaning into the archangel's chest, Castiel grasped his shirt and began sobbing softly.  
So the older creature put an hand on the back of his dark-haired head and tightened his grip, whispering: "I'm here, Cas. You're not alone, don't be afraid. I'm not going away. Now let it out. Let it out, don't be ashamed. It's okay. It's okay."

The angel kept on crying until exhaustion took over him and he surrendered to a deep slumber into his brother's embrace.

Gabriel spent the whole night with Castiel curled up against him. As the youngling gasped or stirred, the archangel stroked his back gently, cringing as he could feel every bone under his hand and not ceasing until the other relaxed again at his side.

Sure: he may have enjoyed his time a lot more if he had spent that night as trickster and not as big brother but, right now, he couldn't think of any other place where he could have been more needed. For the first time in centuries, the archangel felt really useful and in peace with himself. Finally he was given an opportunity to mend his flee from Heaven, now that he was reunited to his family. Of course, Castiel was only a single angel - an inferior one, to be pedantic – and not his entire brotherhood, but Gabriel was sadly aware that some bonds had been made impossible to be rebuilt and was deeply grateful to his Father for this occasion. So he tightened his grip on his brother's slim form and, with tears filling his eyes, smiled and muttered a "Thank You" to God, sure to being listened and aware of His fatherly look over them.

* * *

As dawn rose and the night turned into day, Gabriel heard the Winchesters heading downstairs and reunite with their older fellow for breakfast. When he heard someone stomping on the stairs, the archangel moved cautiously away from his still-sleeping brother and, with a snap of his fingers, returned in his normal outfit and sprawled in the armchair.

A few seconds later, Dean entered the bedroom, with a milk chocolate bar in his hands. He took of a small piece and throw the rest to the Trickster, who started eating, biting it directly.  
While Gabriel enjoyed his breakfast, the hunter kneeled beside Castiel's bed and shook his shoulder gently, the archangel frowned but didn't intervene as he saw the small brown what the Winchester had in his palm.  
After a little, the angel's eyelids cracked open and he found his friend bent over him.

"Dean…"  
"Yes, Cas. Slept well?"  
The angel nodded but seemed confused "Where is Gabriel?"  
"He's right here, look."

Castiel lifted himself up on his elbow and saw his older brother, who waved at him and smiled while crunching his chocolate bar with delight, the angel relaxed visibly at the sight and let the hunter help him into an half-sitting position.

Dean sat on the bed next to his friend and handed him the chocolate.  
Castiel leaned against the headboard and examined the thing between his fingers: "What is this?"  
"Food. Try it, Cas: is one of the best thing humans ever invented."

The angel glanced at his brother and took off a small bite of chocolate, letting it melt on his tongue and overwhelm his mouth with its taste. His blue eyes widened and he quickly finished the small amount that Dean had provided him.  
"I- I liked it! It was…good."  
The hunter smiled at that "Would you want some more?"  
"No, thanks. It was enough."

Then the angel sunk back into his pillow, letting out a sigh.

Slowly, the archangel leant forward to touch his brother forehead with two fingers and whispered in Enochian: " _Be at peace, brother mine, and rest. We won't leave you._ ", guiding Castiel into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Dean raised an eyebrow and Gabriel explained: "He wouldn't have remained with us for long anyway: he's too weak."  
"Yeah. But he has improved, hasn't he?"  
"He isn't worsened, if it's that what you mean. There's still a long way to go before we may consider him to have recovered."  
"At least he ate something: it's the first time in days. Maybe, if we had insisted in feeding him, now he wouldn't be so frail. Damn it! Sammy was right: we should've put him on an IV!"  
"Nah! He was too much agitated and would have ripped it off. Probably you can get him one in the next days, to help him regain his strength…"  
"Are you also a doctor now?"  
"Hey! Who did you think had written the script for 'Dr. Sexy'! And, by chance, I've been on this planet a long long long time before you apes lost your hairs and began wandering. Therefore, I may know a little more than you do."  
" So, you've been around before Man?"  
"Ah! Ah! You've won a jelly, baby!"  
"And Castiel?"  
"As I've already said: he's one of the last angels to be created. Nonetheless, he's been in this world for long before you made your appearance. You know, I recall bringing him down to a beach, when he was still a fledging; as we walked on the seaside I was holding his little hand in mine and he indicated me a tiny fish that was struggling to reach the shore. It was a remote parent of yours and I knew it, so I recommended him not to stomp on it: there were big plans for that fish!"  
"How did you know that?"  
"Because Father told me, as He informed me of my brother's sickness and like He ordered Castiel to raise you from Hell. Why us and why now, I can't explain. He almost never says why but, in my experience His view is broader than ours and He's always got something in His mind. Moreover, it seems that Daddy has grown a soft spot for our little Cassie, since He's brought him back from death and has sent me here to help you. Again, I can't tell you why."

Dean listened with attention and amazement to this, surprisingly serious, outburst from the archangel and couldn't help but asking: "So, you've started to care again for his family."  
Gabriel frowned: "I've never stopped, actually. I ran away because seeing it broken was destroying me. But I've never, never, stopped worrying for them. Plus, I was asked to take care of Castiel after his creation and we share a bond deeper than the one we have with the others. I've felt his death, I mean: it was physically painful for me, like a part of my Grace was torn apart."

"But that didn't stop you from throwing him into a wall!"  
The archangel smirked and the Trickster came briefly back: "Aw, come on! Don't tell me you never prank your little brother! Haven't you ever scared the shit out of him just for fun? Well, that was the same. Every older brother would do that, as every older brother would give anything for the younger's sake."

The hunter couldn't have agreed more with those words and remained silent, considering them. Then, suddenly, Castiel let out a soft whimper. Before Dean could even think to react, Gabriel had already leant forward and put a hand on the suffering creature's forehead, shooting him down while murmuring something in Enochian. Then he gestured for the Winchester to reach for the angel's hand.

As Dean took hold of that pale and fragile-looking limb, his friend returned his grip and smiled faintly in his sleep.

For the first time in days Castiel seemed to be at peace.

* * *

Author's notes:

Heya, folks! Sorry for the delaying, you know, busy week…

Anyway, I hope you to read, to enjoy, perchance to review. (Long live the Great William Shakespeare!).

I also remind that this is **not intended as** a **slash** fiction. But that doesn't mean you can't perceive it as that: _de gustibus non est disputanda_. ;)

So feel free to interpret it as you wish. See you soon!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, neither Jon Snow.

An hour passed and the hunter had laid Castiel's hand on the covers and started pacing, turning his back to the bed, upon which Gabriel had climbed to sit behind his little brother's head, that was caressing while whispering something in Enochian.

As a tear escaped the fallen angel's eyelid and Gabriel swept it away with his thumb, sighing: " The things this little one has done for you!"  
Dean frowned but the archangel went on before he could say anything: "His problems started when Daddy sent him to Hell for you: after rescuing your ungrateful ass from there he started perceiving your well-being as his duty and became affected to you and your moose, down there. Unfortunately, his loyalty to you put him against that jackass of Zach! Have you an idea of what that douchebag has done to Cassie?"

The hunter shook his head but couldn't help feeling his stomach clenching with discomfort.  
"He and others tortured him. In ways you can't even try to imagine. And those are his older brothers, so you shouldn't feel so guilty for what is happening to him."  
"How did you-?"  
"Helloo: archangel! Your thoughts are like a comic book for me, Dean-o. Hey! Stop judging me: it's not my fault if your thoughts are too loud to be ignored! Anyway, you and your domestic moose have been very kind with Cas. I'm impressed: well done monkeys!"  
"We could've done more."  
"And how? Illuminate me! You're far from powerful enough to heal him. But you've been a better family than the one he has upstairs – presents excluded, obliviously – you are repaying the efforts he's making for obeying Daddy's orders: protecting you."

At that point Dean turned to face Gabriel and realized that he hadn't said a word but had communicated with him telepathically, reading his thoughts. The archangel smirked, pissing the hunter off even more.  
"Son of a…" as he made a step toward him, the trickster disappeared in a blink.

Only to reappear behind his back and poke his shoulder. The Winchester turned to face him but he disappeared again.

The scene repeated itself until Sam entered the room to put a bottle of water and a glass on the nightstand. Done that he stepped between the two, separating them. "Time to stop, now: you're upsetting the entire house!" and showed them how Castiel was tossing on the bed, obliviously disturbed by the mess.  
As his brother and the archangel attempted to move toward the bed, the taller man grabbed them from behind and dragged them to the door: "Go downstairs, now, the both of you: Bobby has something to tell you."

Sam waited to hear two pair of feet heading down before moving at Castiel's bedside.  
He cupped the angel's head in his hands and lifted it slightly, brushing his hair back softly until he could see his blue eyes.  
"Sam…what happened?"  
"Nothing serious, Cas: our brothers were only kidding around."  
"Oh."  
"You've slept a lot, would you like to sit up for a while?"  
The fallen creature nodded and the hunter put one arm around his skinny shoulders and lifted him onto an half-sitting position, adding an extra pillow to support his back.

Sam didn't remove his hands away from the angel's shoulders until they stopped shaking and he sunk back into his pillow.

"How do you feel, Cas?"  
"I'm…drained and sore, but definitely better than yesterday, thank you."  
The angel frowned and looked around in apparent search of something before setting his eyes again on the hunter.  
"Where are Dean and Gabriel?"

The Winchester sighed and slumped into the armchair Gabriel had provided: "You see: they thought that running around like infant might have been a funny thing to do, so…"  
"So they started."  
The angel sighed too and shook his head:"Gabriel hasn't changed a bit."

The hunter's smile vanished suddenly as his friend began grasping his covers, panting through gritted teeth.

Sam rushed to the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth that used to sponge his friend's forehead and face. As the pain increased though, he took hold of Castiel's hand, getting his attention.

The look in the angel's eyes was shocking: Sam had never seen anyone looking so pained and lost.

So he started talking softly to him, caressing his temples with the cloth: " Cas, look at me. Come on, look at me! Good. Can you understand me?"  
The creature nodded briefly.  
"Great! Now grab my hand and squeeze it as hard as you can. Yeah: like that. Now breathe through it. Breathe, Cas. Slowly…this way: inhale from the nose…exhale through the mouth. There...take slowly, deep breaths…like that….atta boy…keep breathing…it's alright…you'll be fine. I've got you."

Finally the attack subsided and Castiel's body relaxed.

"Better?" As the angel nodded some blood started flowing from his nose.  
Quickly, Sam pressed the cloth on it to stop the small hemorrhage.  
"Sam…whadt?"  
"Nothing serious, don't worry."  
Luckily the creature was too drained for further questioning and the hunter could hide the blood stained cloth into his pocket before his friend opened his eyes again. He had to avoid him other worries so he grabbed the book on the nightstand in order to distract him from the nosebleed.

"Soo…would you like to go on with our reading?"  
"Yes, please. That would be delightful!"  
"Alright, then. Where were we?"  
"We had just started 'The Fellowship of the Ring – Book Two'."  
"Oh yeah. Right. 'The council of Elrond' then. Ok: there we go…"

* * *

Sam had to interrupt his reading when Castiel began shacking uncontrollably.

Immediately, he set aside the book and leaned forward to put an hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.  
"Hey! Hey! Easy there, Cas! Easy!"  
"Hurts..."  
"Shh. Shh."

As the creature's chest was overwhelmed by spasms, the hunter started drying his sweat away with a sheet's angle and murmuring soothing words to comfort him.  
"It's alright, Cas. You're doing good. You're going to be better, ok?"  
The angel nodded frantically and his eyes, wade with pain and fear, crossed the Winchester's ones, tearing his heart apart.

Sam took his friend's hand in his own: "You're not alone in this, Cas. We're here with you and not leaving. Fight it. You're a warrior of God, you're strong: you can make it. Ok?"  
Another trembling nod.  
"Yeah. Just breathe, nice and slow, that's it. Just breathe."  
Sam brushed the angel's forehead with his fingertips. It was sweaty and warmer than usual but there was nothing he could do to help with it.  
The shivers that shock the creature's body and the fear that inhabited his eyes could be dealt with, though.

Slowly, the hunter bent on the bed and pulled Castiel's shacking figure into a hug, holding him as tight as he could without hurting him. The angel grasped his shirt and moved closer to the taller man, in desperate search for the comfort and protection that embrace could give him.

Acknowledging his friend's need, the Winchester shielded the angel's head with his hand and pressed it against his heart. It was a very unusual gesture that Sam had done only a few times to help little scared children or young women, he would've never imagined to hug a full grown man – an angel! – like that. It was something that Dean wouldn't have done, not now at least, since he tried to keep some distance in order to not suffer too much. But Sam could recall his brother squeezing him tight against his chest after a nightmare awoke him, as a child.

And now, in spite of his centuries of existence and his vessel's age, in this state Cas was little more than a baby and he deserved all the help the hunter could provide. So he held him, murmuring shooting words, until the attack subsided and the creature became a dead weight in the hunter's arms.

As the Winchester laid him on the bed, Castiel grasped his hand and breathed an exhausted "Thank you"-  
In response, Sam smiled and returned the squeeze, guiding the drained angel into a much needed sleep.

* * *

Author's notes:

Wow! I didn't expect it to become that long! How's it doing? Let me know by pressing that thing down there.

Free bunnies for every reviewer!

Sorry for the delaying but I'm doing final tests. I'm graduating in a month! Tomorrow it's going to be an essay test *crosses fingers* so I got to go. Love y'all, folks! Enjoy summer while I Kant!


	8. Chapter 8

*skreeek* Wowee! Well, I'm back. Yes, I'm back. Yes, I'm Back in Black!

Disclaimer: the characters belong to Eric Kripke, but the plot…*turns around and finds bunnies staring evilly*… belongs to my bunnies! *heavy sigh*

Anyway, please have fun with this.

Once sure that Castiel was asleep and wouldn't have required any immediate assistance, Sam let himself relax into the armchair. But then his hand fell onto the pocket were the cloth stained by the angel's blood was still hidden and shivered: he had to inform Gabriel. Now.

With a last, compassionate look to the figure in the bed, the Winchester left the room and moved downstairs, his eyes locked onto the bloodied cloth in his hands.

He was so concentrated on what to say that he didn't notice to have reached the kitchen, in spite of the loud voices that were filling it. At least not until he almost stomped on his older brother, who was gesturing over a chart of Bobby's propriety that was laid on the table. The taller man went to a sudden stop just an inch away from Dean's back. He still couldn't quit staring at the stained handkerchief.

"Whehehey! Looks like Gigantor has finally joined us!" Gabriel's cheerful voice broke Sam away from his trance and startled Dean, who became suddenly aware of the presence behind his shoulders and jolted in surprise.

"Whoa, man! Don't ever do that again!"

Unfortunately, his movement revealed what his younger brother was carrying in his hands and, before Sam could ever utter a syllable, Gabriel had already zapped in front of him. The hunter had no choice but handle him the cloth.

"Is this…?" for probably the first time in his long life, the archangel seemed out of words.

"Yes"

"How?"

Feeling everybody's looks on him, the younger Winchester let his eyes fall onto his suddenly so fascinating boots as he started to explain what happened upstairs: "Some minutes after you left he had another crisis. At first it didn't seem too bad and it didn't last long. But when he finally relaxed some blood started flowing out of his nose. I pressed on his nostril a little and it quickly stopped…"

"Is he aware of this?"

"I don't think so: as soon as the bleeding stopped I shoved the cloth in my pocked. He didn't seem to have noticed anything. Probably because of his weariness."

"Very likely so. And then? What happened next?"

"Uh. I've read to him a chapter of 'The Fellowship of the Ring' to keep his mind away from the nosebleed…but then the pain returned and…"

"Yeah. Yeah. Fine. That's all I needed to know. I suppose poor old Cassie to be asleep now. Isn't he?"

Sam nodded slightly and Dean patted him on the back to reassure him: "None of this is your fault, Sammy. Stop blaming yourself."

"Hellz yeah! For the first time in its screwed life that hairless ape has a point!"  
"Spare the insult for those feathery dickheads you call brothers and explain us what's wrong!"

"Whoa, Zira, take a breather!"

Suddenly Dean's lips felt like glued together and he couldn't open his mouth anymore, no matter with how much effort he tried.

"Now that Dumbester won't interrupt me, I can tell you what's happening: little Cassie's Grace is still dissolving, so his vessel is starting to deteriorate too. You surely have noticed how much weight that poor fellow has already lost, now it's getting worse."

"What do ya mean for 'worse'?"

"That's a pretty good question, Owl! A question that deserves an extremely articulated and complex answer: no idea. I can't tell what will be stricken next. Could be his eyes, his lungs or – may Dad not want that – his heart or brain. Hopefully I'll be able to fix him before his body fails completely."

"Have we done something to worsen his condition?"

"Nope. Not even you could have damaged him so much. No, there must be something he's not telling. I can discover what he's hiding but I'll need you to let me work. If he'll scream or cry please don't storm into the room. I assure you he'll be safe. It's going to be rather unpleasant but there's no other way to heal him. Believe me."

"Why should _you_ do that?"  
"Because he's my little brother you sequoiadendron! He's my little brother and I love him!"

And the archangel ran upstairs, leaving the blood-stained cloth behind.

* * *

Author's note:

*dun dun dun*

Ok, folks! Hope you've liked it! If you did, please review and let me know. If you didn't….review and let me know: constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Warning: next chapter is going to be a little darker. I didn't write anything excessively gruesome I'm not going to change the rating but, if you are very sensible, you might want to be advised...it'll be very sad and angsty. Don't worry: no death involved (perhaps).

Have a nice day and – for those of you involved in Gishwhes – have a nice hunt!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: He – She – It owns. They own. I own nothing. Sad but true.

 **Warning** : part of this contains psychological and physical abuse. Don't read if it may **trigger** you. Please, be safe.

When Gabriel busted in the room, Castiel was still sleeping, curled up on his right side with only his pale face and hands sticking out of the covers. His now bony fingers were grasping at the comforter laid on his body like a fledging would anchor himself to the safety of his nest.

The archangel closed the door as softly as he could and went sitting beside his little brother, softly caressing the thin lay of sweat away from his forehead. Castiel moaned softly. As his brother had presumed he was dreaming and, judging by the shivers that were running through his body and his iron-like grip on the blankets, something unpleasant.

Gabriel took a deep breath and immerged cautiously in the other angel's dream. Careful to not startle him or ruin the imagine of the dream. If he wanted to save him, he had to know.

* * *

Slowly the imagine started forming in front of him.

 _Castiel was restrained and blindfolded, his wings had been clipped and his limbs were chained, trapping him into a kneeling position on the bare floor. Despite his long absence, Gabriel recognized the room as a torture chamber in Heaven's dungeons. The only thought of his little brother trapped there sent shivers down his spine., which didn't happen so often._

 _However, that hell of a nightmare wasn't going to let him worry at peace and a sudden movement recalled his attention toward Cassie's restrained body._

 _Someone had removed the band from his eyes and those azure irises, wide with fear, were fixed on his captor (Gabriel could only see his shoulders but could not move for the risk to startle the sleeping angel)._

 _Then the ignominious bastard spoke, but the archangel could not recognize him._

" _Now, Castiel. Did you reflect over your loyalty state?"_ _"Why am I here?" "Why?! My, oh my! You little, ignorant fledging!" the figure snapped his fingers and some bones in Castiel's left wing cracked, exciting a cry of pain from the creature, whose body was shaken by shivers and spasms. "Why are you doing this? Brother!" "How dare you call me like that!" another snap, another couple of bones cracking, this time in the right wing. This time the prisoner couldn't hold back a scream of pain. Tears came streaming down his face as he lifted his eyes again to his captor: "Why?"_

 _*snap* another bone broken *snap* a wing completely twitched *snap* *snap* *snap*_

 _The bastard kept on mutilating Castiel's wings, deaf to his cries, his questions, his prayers to his Father. He kept on torturing him until he fell on the floor, his once magnificent wings now reduced to a crumpled, shaking mass._

 _Monster kneeled beside the poor creature's head and lifted it by grabbing his hair: Castiel was deadly pale and, while his screams had stopped, tears were still running through his cheeks in small rivers, his pupils were wide with pain and fear. He was completely defeated, at his captor mercy._

" _Now, my little stupid fledging, what have we learned?" "Never question…anything…ever" "And?" "Obey…my…orders…always"_

 _Gabriel was disgusted, nauseated. Only a demon would use torture to submit someone, angels sick like that one were one of the main reasons for his flee. He could not reprimand a shiver, but still it wasn't over._

" _Good, Castiel. Good. But you understand that I have to be absolutely sure of your obedience, so…Naomi! Come here, my dear!"_

 _A female angel entered the room, holding a sort of metal crown with nails inserted, and placed it on Castiel's head._

 _This time the screams were too much and Gabriel returned to waking world._

* * *

When he reopened his eyes, Castiel was still asleep, shaking like a leaf and damping his pillow with tears. Gabriel caressed his head softly and awakened him. Has he had imagined, the younger angel started to panic and his breath became ragged. "Gh-Gab..briel.."  
The archangel nodded, taking a deep sigh: "Yes. I'm here, little one. Don't be afraid, I've got you."  
"You saw?"  
Another sigh: "Yes, I did. Why didn't you tell me?"

Castiel started shaking again and buried his face in the pillow: "I thought that I had already gotten over it. The memories didn't bother me then, but with the Fall…it is becoming more and more painful…"  
"You can talk to me, if you want, little one. I'm not going away."  
"I don't know what to say…I was just so…so afraid…I could barely understand what was happening…I only remember the pain and the fear. It's just…just…oh, Father!"

He started crying again and Gabriel decided to lift him against his chest, enfolding him into an embrace while his wings crossed around them, providing an invisible yet unbreakable shelter. Once again, Castiel buried his head against the archangel's breast and gripped his clothes tightly, while his brother kept on caressing his head and neck, shooting him.

"Shh, Shh. Don't be afraid. You're safe now. You're safe:

 _Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around._ _  
_ _Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around._

 _Demons are crawling everywhere, nowadays,  
_ _I'll send 'em howling,  
_ _I don't care,  
I got ways._

 _No one's gonna hurt you,_ _  
_ _No one's gonna dare._ _  
_ _Others can desert you,_ _  
_ _Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there._

 _Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,_ _But in time..._

 _Nothing's gonna harm you_ _  
_ _Not while I'm around..._ "

When he finished, Castiel was completely abandoned against his torso, breathing heavily and sniffing every now and then. Gabriel set his hand over his neck and murmured softly in his ear:  
"Who did that to you?"  
The angel's thin body stiffed and he started shaking again:" C-can't tell. "  
"It was Zachariah. Wasn't it?"  
His only answer was a shaking nod, and he tightened his grip around his little brother frame.  
"Hellz! I knew it."

The archangel sighed heavily and laid carefully his brother on the pillows, gently tugging the covers around his shoulders. Then he gave him a last caress on the head and rose to his feet. He had to make this right.

But, before he could even try to step forward, Gabriel felt a hand grasping his arm. There was no need to turn around: he could feel his brother's desperate glance piercing through his back to stab his heart. The archangel inhaled deeply and closed his eyes shut but, despite his efforts, his voice was broken when he said: "I must get things right. Let me go, Castiel."  
"No! No, please. Do not abandon me, brother! Please!"

Dear Father! He was begging!

"Dad, give me strength!" Gabriel whispered to himself, then added, louder: "Now I must go, brother. But I'll be back. Trust me."

And he broke free, trying to ignore his brother's cries as he walked away from his bedside.

"NO!"

And again.

"BROTHER!"

As he closed the door behind his shoulders, the archangel heard Castiel starting to cry and, on the edge of tears himself, whispered: "Forgive me. I have no other choice."

Then left.

Regained some composure, Gabriel reunited to the hunters in the living room, where he freed Dean's mouth with a snap of his fingers.

Immediately, the three men surrounded him and started asking questions, which the archangel waved away: there was no time for that.

"I'm afraid that my presence is now required in another place. I'm leaving."  
"Yeah, sure. There'll be some other innocent man you'll want to trick to death."  
"Dude, it's not Tuesday!"

Gabriel shot them a glance that would have reduced a mountain to dust: for once in his life he was deadly serious. "As I said: I have to be somewhere else, now and that's all you need to know. I'll be back in three days. If you don't trust me, trust the bond you share and you'll know that anyone of you would do the same. Please, take care of Cas while I'm away."

And he disappeared from sight.

Just a second later, a loud thud filled the house from upstairs.

* * *

Author's notes:

Sooo...how it was? Let me know.+

 ***Serious moment***

If you, or someone of your loved ones, or a friend has been abused in **any** way, please, **please don't keep it all bottled inside, don't try to cope with this alone**. Bad memories can only harm you. Whatever happened, **it wasn't your fault!** It was theirs. Don't blame yourself and, more important, remember that you **don't have to face this alone!**

Seek for help. Psychologists, psychiatrists, doctors and nurses are there to help and **no one of them will ever judge you.** Opening up to a professional figure is difficult so, at first, confide your burden to someone close to you: a sibling, a friend, a teacher, a parent...someone who you feel you can trust. Ask them to accompany you during the first steps.

I'm not a therapist, but I've been through some rough times myself so I know how difficult it can be. I don't want you to suffer. What I want you to know is: **healing can require time and strength but you'll definitely feel better in the end.** You'll survive and be stronger. Wherever you are, don't surrender! There's a light at the end of the tunnel.

#AlwaysKeepFightihg

 ***Serious moment***

That was hard! To cheer you up a bit: my oldest and lovely bunny is turning 8 today! Life in every form (yes, yours too ;-) ) is wonderful!

[To the Guest reviewer that pointed me out the difference between 'loose' and 'lose': what I mean in the description is that Cas still has a bond with Heaven (we can see him connecting with it in 5.16) but it's not so tight as it was before. However, I really appreciated your interest and suggestion. Thank you very much :3]


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Error 4o4 2.0: property of characters not found. It seems I...my bunnies own the plot.

The Winchesters rushed into action but Bobby stopped them before they could reach the stairs: "Let me do this. Instead, go make him something warm to drink: he's going to need it."

No response: just two pair of eyes staring at him in disbelief.

"Come on, idjits! Move those asses!"  
And the brothers left the older hunter, who waited for them to settle down in the kitchen before reaching to the angel's room upstairs.

As he had imagined, the poor thing was laying on the floor, just a few inches out of his chamber, a hand stretched out, trying to reach someone already too far. There was no need for the boys to see him like that.

Bobby crouched by the collapsed creature's side and placed a hand on his back, shaking him gently. "Hey Cas! Cas? Can you hear me, boy?"

Slowly, the angel's eyelids opened and he moaned a recognition. The hunter caressed paternally his sweaty black hair before lifting him carefully up and dragging his, mostly uncooperative, form back to his room. There, he laid the creature back on the bed and covered him up, folding the comforter under his armpits. Then Bobby moved to the bathroom and wetted his handkerchief, with which he started sponging Castiel's pale forehead.

How ironic, the once so powerful creature that almost scared the shit out of him in that warehouse was now laying in front of him, helpless, lost, suffering and looking so small on that queen-sized bed. Still caressing the poor thing's face and neck with the dampened cloth, the hunter talked to him, trying to get his mind away from the archangel's departure:

"You know, feathers, this was my wife's bed, when she was a maiden."  
"Y-your...wife?"  
"Yes, son. I don't know why I kept it but, in the end, it turned useful. Don't you think?"  
"Your wife...she...she's in Heaven now...I s-saw her...she's...cooking biscuits...waiting for you..."  
"In Heaven?! B-but she was..."  
"Possessed...by a demon. So, nothing of...what...happened was...her fault...nor yours."

Bobby felt an immense wave of relief wash over him and would have wanted to ask a few more questions when, suddenly, Castiel's breathing worsened and he started gasping heavily, clenching the covers until his knuckles turned white for the effort, his eyes squeezed shout.  
The hunter lifted him to a half-sitting position, supporting his back with the pillow and murmuring words of comfort, trying to shoote him down: "Come on, boy. Come on. Don't give up on me, not yet. Breathe, now, breathe. It's alright. You're safe here. Breathe, breathe slowly, son. That's it. Don't surrender, boy: you can make it!"

When Castiel's body finally relaxed, Bobby poured him a glass of water and accosted it to his chapped lips, now stained of blood where he had tried to bite back the pain. The angel sipped slowly the drink while the hunter supported his head. However, the simple task of drinking a few gulps of water drained every energy the creature still had and he collapsed on the pillow, deadly pale and panting softly.  
Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder and the angel grasped it, as if his life depended on that. It hurt to see him so weak and fragile. So helpless that he had to depend on humans to survive, silently begging for affection and company.

The hunter started sponging his forehead again, murmuring: "Hey, boy! You have to breathe! Don't give up, ok? We're not going to let you down, neither that idjit of your brother. But you've got to hold on. Will you?"  
The angel nodded frantically and the man patted his shoulder "Good. That's my boy! Now rest, son. Try to regain some strength."

Under Bobby's fatherly ministrations, Castiel relaxed completely and his breath started to normalize.  
After a while, he managed to open his eyes a bit and ask the hunter: "How are your legs?"

The man was startled: even with the inhuman ordeal that he was going through, the angel was still concerned for the hunters "Well, they feel a lot better now: no pain, no stiffness, it's like being young again. Guess I'll have to thank your idjit brother for that."  
"Gabriel maintained his promise."  
"Yeah. How could you convince him to heal me it's a mystery." The pale shadow of a smile crossed Castiel's bloodied lips for a moment before he answered: "Let's just say I pulled him out a hot spot."  
"A 'hot spot'? Really?"

"I'm not allowed to say anything more."

And he sunk more deeply into the pillow, where he remained until someone knocked on the door. Which opened, revealing Dean with a steaming mug in his hand:

"Hi, Cas! How are you?"  
"Fine"

The hunters exchanged a look that demonstrated clearly how no one of them believed it, but they silently agreed to hide their concern and let the angel have his way. Bobby had the right hint to save them from an awkward situation: "So, what's in that cup?"  
"Uh? Kind of a hippie stuff that Sam prepared for Cas. There: drink it. He said it will help you relaxing."

He placed the mug into the creature shaking hands, but had to help him to drink since they were too unsteady.  
So weak.  
So vulnerable.

Dean's heart clenched and he was tempted to look away, but he could not risk to get his friend burned by the hot drink. When the angel finished, however, he could not reprimand a sensation of relief.

"What was that, then? You didn't answered."  
"Chamomile tea. Sasquatch says that it's good for calming the nerves and for easing sleep. He's not sure but it may also have some perks on the cramps." "Indeed I feel a little better. Please, thank Sam from me."

Dean smiled and rested a hand on his friend's shoulder: "I will. But you should really go to sleep now. Don't worry: you're safe here, you're protected. We'll watch over you."  
With a small, sad smile Castiel nodded and let his eyelids fell over his tired eyes.

In a few moments, his breath slowed and the hunters knew he was drifted in some place beyond their reach and power. Watching the angel sleep was both comforting, because they knew he wasn't in pain, and terrifying: he wasn't supposed to be asleep, to feel pain, fatigue and sadness. This wasn't right. It just wasn't right.

* * *

Even if the night passed without any fuss, the following day Castiel was so weak that he barely even opened his eyes all morning. Moreover, now he couldn't swallow either. Before noon, they had to rub his throat to make him gulp the small amount of water he needed.

Finally, Bobby resolved to an extreme solution. He disappeared from the bedroom, leaving only the concerned Winchesters at their friend's bedside. Sam on the bed, sitting next to his knees, and Dean on the edge of the armchair, at the other side. They hadn't shifted when he came back, five minutes later, holding a plastic bag and a tube that the brothers recognized as an IV line. Under his armpit was also folded the cane to keep it up.

Sam moved away to let him have better access to the fallen creature's arm. Bobby didn't feel like inserting the needle while the angel was unconscious so he shock his arm until his eyes half opened. The hunter put the IV components on the bed and took the needle in his fingers.

"Give me your hand, kid."  
"Wh-hat?" barely a whisper.  
"Let me take your hand, kid."

Castiel tried to lift up his hand a little but only managed to raise his fingers a few centimetres before they fell limp on the mattress. The man gently picked them up and flexed them to form a fist.  
"Now, this will sting a little."  
And he cleaned the creature's hand with a little ball of cotton drenched in alcohol and inserted the IV. The angel inhaled sharply but made no other move and fell asleep again while Bobby finished to prepare the whole cane and attached a plastic bag to it. Then taped the needle to keep it in position before putting a light bandage around the angel's hand.  
"I'm going to collect the other bags from the kitchen. It' just a normal saccharine solution but I have them blessed by a priest of my knowledge. Let's hope it helps!"

And he disappeared from sight.

Indeed, the IV seemed to have helped a bit because, a few minutes later, the angel opened his eyes. His gaze was very unfocused and it took him some time to whisper the names of the brothers, who moved to sit closer to him, as it seemed that his sight had worsened. As soon as the angel felt sure they were going to stay, he started to look curiously at his bandaged hand. Tilting his head, the creature flexed his fingers, wincing at the stinging sensation it caused, and lifted the pale limb toward his face in order to get a better look with his weakened eyes.

"What is...this?"  
Sam eased gently Castiel's hand on the comforter and covered it with his palm, carefully avoiding the needle: "That's and intravenous line, Cas. It drops fluids into your body. Bobby put it on because you were no longer able to drink."  
"So, it's...keeping...me...hydrated."  
"Basically, yeah."

"How are you feeling now, Cas?" Dean couldn't hide a hint of concern in his voice.  
"I'm...tired. And sore. My...wings are...convulsing...b-but...the pain is m...manageable. Th..Thanks. D-Dean."  
The older Winchester laid an hand on his friend's shoulder and Sam gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Those small gestures were far from providing any form of help in reducing the burning pain in his wings, but Castiel felt oddly comforted by them and collected his remaining strength to ask one last thing.

"May, you two, do me a favour, please?"  
"Yes, Cas, whatever."  
"Yeah, just ask."  
"C – could you, please...stay...stay with me...until...until..." _Until I'll be dead.  
_ "Until your moronic brother's return? Sure."  
"Dean..."  
"Don't you dare even thinking to die, Cas! Not after all we've been through together. We're definitely not going to let you down, but you have to hold on. Just for a couple days. Ok?"  
The angel managed a small nod and let his head fall towards Dean's hand, still on his shoulder.

In an attempt to easy the tension, the older brother picked up the book from the nightstand and gave it to Sam.  
"Cas, would you mind Sasquatch reading some more for us?"  
"I'd love to...to hear how the story goes."  
"Brilliant! Just let me find the chapter."

The brothers adjusted into more comfortable positions: Sam sat next to Cas, with his back propped onto the headboard and a small pillow beneath his head, and Dean sprawled onto the bed at the angel's side. Once the younger brother finished a chapter, the other took the book and read another before giving it back. Any of them barely noticed when Bobby's head appeared behind the half opened door, every now and then.

They were almost halfway through "The Two Towers"' s first book when Castiel's eyes fell closed again, a high fever radiating from his body.

Right after sunset, he was delirious.

* * *

Castiel spent most of the evening and early night uttering unintelligible words, mostly in languages unknown to the hunters. After 10.00 pm, when Sam had gone to bed to get his four hours of sleep leaving only Dean and Bobby at his bedside, the angel's angels cracked open while the Winchester was pressing a cool compress on his burning forehead. His weary and unfocused blue eyes set on the hunter's face and he squeezed them, as if to focus on his features.

"De'n" he soughed, making the man lean closer to hear his fading voice.  
"Yes, Cas: it's me. I'm here."  
The angel stretched out an arm, as if to reach for the hunter's face, and groaned: "I must...raise...you...need...to be...saved..."  
Dean shot a puzzled glance to the older hunter before answering: "Uh, technically you've already raised me form Hell, or perdition or whatever."  
The creature tilted his head in confusion and disbelief so the Winchester lifted his shirt's sleeve and placed Cas' hand over the scar on his left shoulder.  
The angel felt his limb adapt almost perfectly to the handprint and a smile illuminated his face.

"You're safe."  
Dean nodded.  
"You're safe! Dean Winchester's been saved!" and the creature collapsed again on the bed, shaking as a great weigh was lifted from him.  
A very short lived relief since, a couple minutes later, he frowned again: "We are...not...in Hell...then."  
"No. No, we're at Bobby's."  
"Then...why...can't...feel...my...brothers?"  
The older Winchester shot a questioning look towards Bobby, who shuddered. He had to improvise.

Resting a hand on his friend's shoulder the hunter answered: "It's because...because you are very ill, and your fever's really high. But you'll be better soon, then you'll feel them again. Try to rest now, save your strength."  
The creature gave him a small nod and drifted into a feverish slumber again.

Dean fell onto a chair they had brought next to the bed and Bobby gave him a double thumb up.

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

Ok, folks! Like it? Didn't like it? Review and make me happy by knowing.

Moreover: next chapter will contain our beloved Gabriel's revenge on Zacha** . Since many of you "love" that feathery di**head here's my idea: **suggest me some ways** **in which Gabe will make him pay by posting a review** (Guests included). I'll do my best to include them in the story.

Remember: the revenge has to be Trickster style, so nothing too violent. You can also suggest some music to accompany the actions. Let's make this funnier!

You'll have time until the chapter will be posted ( a little more than a week, I think).

Thank you for reading, liking, following, reviewing this. I can't wait to hear from you, folks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I'm too lazy to own anything except the plot. Not even the song I've quoted are mine.**

 **Warning:** language is a little bit heavier here.

Meanwhile, Gabriel.

With a last snap of his fingers the trap was finally set.

For his revenge plan he had chosen an isolated warehouse in Detroit's industrial zone. No angel would have ever looked for his prey, there. If this was mostly due to the building's effective isolation or to the spell the archangel had cast to shield it from Heaven's spies was all to see. Anyway, he wasn't planning to get old Zach rescued anytime soon. If he had to be rescued at all was still in doubt, in the end.

Just to be sure of keeping his captive bound enough, Gabriel had carved into the pavement a special angel locking sigil, modified to lock specifically Zach's Grace. His ability to control pocket dimensions and create hallucinations would have done the rest. Now that everything was ready, he only needed his "guest".

For the first time in centuries, Gabriel let his mind wander incognito in Angel Radio, searching for a specific frequency. Whose garrison did the douche belong in? Michael's. Right. Oh yeah, there it was.

Disguising himself as Michael, the Trickster whispered into his victim head:

 _Zachariah._

 _Yes, Michael. Here I am._

A douchebag, definitely.

 _I found a temporary vessel. Come to me on Earth. Warehouse number 18 of 'Housely and Libon's shipping company' in Detroit. I want to talk to you in private of a career advancement._

 _Oh! Yes! Yes! Thank you, Boss. I'll be right there._

A flutter of wings and the protagonist appeared.

Now the show was ready to begin.

From his convenient hiding place in the shadows, Gabriel lit a light on the centre of the sigil where a chair had been placed.

"Please, have a seat."

Not noticing, nor recognizing the cravings on the floor, the angel sat onto the wooden chair and his Grace immediately stopped working.

"M-Michael! What?"  
"Let me be honest with you, Zachariah."  
"Of course, whatever you want."  
"Shut up! You've deluded me, Zachariah. You're the deepest delusion I've ever faced since Lucifer's fall."  
"Brother dear, you must be confusing me with Castiel. I've been called for a career advancement."  
"I never said it would have been YOUR career. You are, in fact, discharged."  
"Discharged?"  
"Discharged. As: fired, made redundant, removed from a charge, left at home. Chose the definition you prefer."

Dad! The douche was now as pale as the ghost of an albino and shaking like a leaf, his teeth chattering for the fear! Gabriel had to force himself not to burst into laughs.

"B-b-but why? I've always served Heaven at the best of my capacities!"  
"Want to know the truth? It is your recent outburst with Castiel that disappointed me."  
"But I was just following orders!"  
"Whose orders?"  
"G-God's?"

Suddenly, Gabriel did not want to laugh anymore. "And at which point, since Creation happened, did God order to torture someone? You don't find anything like that in the Bible and I'm pretty sure no angel received such a request!"

Zachariah went completely mute and sat rigid on the edge of the chair, scared beyond belief. The angelic version of someone who had just peed his pants. Gabriel had him exactly where he wanted to. Now he could star-

"Y-you are n-not-t M-Michael! Who are you?"

Jeez! The douchebag had not lost his tongue. Well, someone else would answer him.

Music started playing:

 _Who are you?_ _Who, who, who, who?_ _  
_ _I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)_ _  
_ _Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)_ _  
_ _'Cause I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)_

The jerk expression was priceless: his eyes were wide open and he was blinking wildly, while his lower lip was twitched completely, exposing his gums.

The Trickster burst into a silent laughter. Dad! He hadn't even started!

"B-b-but-t-t w-who a-are y-y-you?"

 _I am a killjoy from Detroit_ _  
_ _I drink from a well of rage_ _  
_ _I feed off the weakness with all my love_ _  
_ _Call up at the captain, hey hey_ _  
_ _Hey hey hey hey hey_ _  
_

"W-w-what-t-t is hap-p-pening?!" Now his teeth were chattering.

 _This is a stand-off_ _  
_ _A Molotov cocktail_ _  
_ _On the house_ _  
_ _You thought I was a write-off_ _  
_ _You better think again_ _  
_ _Call the peacemaker, hey hey_ _  
_ _Hey hey hey hey hey_ _  
_ _I'm gonna send you back to the place where it all began_

"Dear Lord! What do you want from me?!"

 _Vendetta, sweet vendetta_ _  
_ _This Beretta of the night_ _  
_ _This fire and the desire_ _  
_ _Shots ringing out on a holy parasite_

"..."

 _Well, death to the ones at the end of the seranade!_

If his invisible restrains had allowed it, Zachariah would have jumped onto his chair: "W-w-wait! Wait! WAIT! What are you going to do to me? I didn't mean...I wasn't...I was just obeying orders!"

Noone listened to his pleas and another song began playing:

 _I see a bad moon rising.  
I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin'.  
I see bad times today._

 _Don't go around tonight,_

 _Well it's bound to take your life,_ _  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

 _I hear hurricanes a blowing._  
 _I know the end is coming soon._  
 _I fear rivers over flowing._  
 _I hear the voice of rage and ruin._

 _Well don't go around tonight,_

 _Well it's bound to take your life,_ _  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

 _Hope you got your things together._  
 _Hope you are quite prepared to die._  
 _Looks like we're in for nasty weather._  
 _One eye is taken for an eye._

 _Well don't go around tonight,_

 _Well it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

 _Don't come around tonight,_

 _Well it's bound to take your life,_

 _There's a bad moon on the rise._

During that lovely, cheerful melody the angel was repeatedly struck by lightening, submerged by heavy rain, hit by a tsunami, covered in snow, hauled by a hurricane and submitted to every kind of extreme weather conditions.

Then Gabriel sent him into a small pocket dimension created to resemble an tremendous rollercoaster. But before he could start the engine, the feathery canvasser dared open his mouth again:

"Why is this happening?"  
"You know, a dear, dear friend of mine would call this 'karma'!"

Which suggested him the best soundtrack for his hatred brother's trip.

 _Desert loving in your eyes all the way.  
If I listen to your lies,_ _  
Would you say I'm a man without conviction,_ _  
I'm a man who doesn't know  
How to sell a contradiction?  
You come and go, you come and go._

 _Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma, chameleon,_

 _You come and go, you come and go.  
Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams:  
Red, gold, and green, red, gold, and green._

 _Didn't you hear your wicked words ever'y day._  
 _And you used to be so sweet._

 _I heard you say that my love was an addiction.  
When we cling, our love is strong.  
When you go, you're gone forever.  
You string along, you string along._

 _Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma, chameleon,_

 _You come and go, you come and go.  
Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams:  
Red, gold, and green, red, gold, and green._

 _Ev'ry day is like survival._  
 _You're my lover, not my rival._

 _Ev'ry day is like survival._  
 _You're my lover, not my rival._

 _I'm a man without conviction_  
 _I'm a man who doesn't know_  
 _How to sale a contradiction?_  
 _You come and go, you come and go._

 _Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma, chameleon,_

 _You come and go, you come and go.  
Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams:  
Red, gold, and green, red, gold, and green._

 _Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma, chameleon,_

 _You come and go, you come and go.  
Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams:  
Red, gold, and green, red, gold, and green._

The rollercoaster went on and on...and on, and on, and on.

While Gabriel danced along the song's merry tune, constellated by the horrified screams of his victim.

Until he got bored.

At that point he trapped the jerk into a labyrinth shaped cave and Indiana Jones' theme started playing. Not being a cinema lover at all, Zachariah didn't see it coming but, as soon as he heard a loud rumble coming his way, he knew he had to run. To run for his life.

With an high pitched, unmanly scream he realized that an enormous stone, in a small moon's dimension, had started rolling beside him. The angel kept on running, and running, and running.

Oh! And screaming.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I just needed to prove Castiel's loyalty! I was following orders! I was obeying! I had orders! I'll never do that again! Castiel's my favourite brother, now! Please! Leave me be!"

He hadn't listened to Castiel's begging, now nobody cared about his. Dante would have called it 'retaliation'.

Eventually, the archangel got bored again and made a thick wall appear in front of the aspirant escapist and only a mere fraction of a second before the rolling stone smashed him, Gabriel grabbed him under his armpits and took flight.

With his kicking and whining passenger, the Trickster completed three whole tours around the Earth at light speed. Then he 'deposed' his burden onto the top of mount Everest with a last advice: "Don't you ever dare to raise a hand on Castiel again or I will find you and I'll smite you!"

And he flew back to Detroit in order to destroy every trace of his passage before returning to his ill brother's bedside.

Without any option left, Zachariah returned to Heaven.

There, he found Michael. The real Michael. The real and really infuriated Michael.

"Zachariah!"  
"Y-y-yes, M-Michael?"  
"You've been missing for almost three earthly days! We had to lost precious time and resources to look after you! Lucifer could have taken down Heaven by this time!"  
"I'm sorry, Michel! I was.."  
"You were?"  
"Trapped..."  
"Your level of incompetence is incommensurable! From now on you'll be declassed: Naomi will take your place! Now disappear from my sight for a year at last!"

Had he been human, Zachariah would have fainted.

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

 **Aaand there we are!**

 **First of all a huge "Thank you" to everyone who provided suggestions: this is mostly your work!**

 **Second: I apologize for the delay but last week had been terrible. Please forgive me.**

 **Third: I'm really curious to know what do you think about this chapter...would you please be so kind to review? *huge puppy eyes***

 **Four: If you're still loving this, stay tuned for more!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** **I've already written it somewhere (Chapter 1) and I'm too lazy to write it again. Sorry . ^.^**

 **I wish to excuse myself for the delaying but I've been quite sick in those two months and I couldn't physically write. Moreover, university is a b…beautiful experience!**

 **Hope you will enjoy this new chapter.**

* * *

" _Father! Father! Where are you going?  
O do not walk so fast.  
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,  
_ _Or else I shall be lost"._

* * *

While Gabriel was having the time of his life making sure Zachariah would have never laid a finger again on Castiel, said angel wasn't doing so good.

After Dean had reassured him to have already been raised from Hell, the creature had fallen into a feverish sleep and hadn't woken up. Not even when Sam took Dean's place at his bedside. The only sign of him being still alive were the erratic rise and fall of his ribcage and the occasional gasps.

Until Sam moved to replace the empty bag of his IV with a new one.

Castiel's eyes half-opened and the younger hunter bent over him, placing a hand on his sweaty hair.

"Cas? Castiel? Can you see me?"  
"S'm?"  
"Yes, buddy! It's me! Come on: talk to me. How are you feeling?"  
"Sam...you have to...to stop."  
The Winchester frowned "To stop? What? Am I hurting you?"

A sudden small cough from Bobby made him turn.  
The older man pointed at the figure laying on the bed and then tapped his temple. _Delirious_.  
 _Castiel was delirious_.

Acknowledging the information with a nod, Sam used the cool cloth to brush away the dark hair from the angel's brow and moved to sit next to him on the bed, taking hold of his bandaged hand.

"Sam?"  
"I'm here, Cas. I'm here."  
"T-the blood, S'm...the blood...please...please...stop...Lilith..." the words fade out as the angel found himself out of breath.

Sam placed his free hand on his heated forehead again: "Lilith's dead, Cas. The...the sigils have been broken."  
The angel moaned softly and his eyelids closed for a while. When they reopened, his gaze fell on Sam again.

"And ...you?"  
"I've quit with the demon's blood. I don't take it anymore."  
"Oh. That...that's...really good." The relief that distended the creature's features was impossible to describe.

The hunter was moved by his fondness.

Then, Castiel began shaking again. "So, L-Lucifer and M-Michael...you are in danger..." he become more and more agitated, until the hunter had to press his shoulders onto the bed to prevent him from hurting himself.  
As the angel began panting heavily, Sam collected his hands on his heaving chest to prevent the IV from tearing apart and started murmuring words of comfort to soothe him.

"Shh, shh. You're safe here. I've got you. And there's also Dean, and Bobby too." He smiled as the angel's fingers struggled to curl around his.  
"D-don't...leave...please..."  
"I won't, I promise. But now you should really get some rest. Sleep, Cas. You've watched over us for long, now it's out turn to vigil on you."

Faithful to his promise, Sam remained there, holding his hands and moving only to change the cloth on his brow.

* * *

The angel didn't stir even when Dean sent Bobby to sleep and took his place, luckily he slept quietly until dawn. But the fever kept consuming him and, at the first lights of that second day after his brother's leaving , the delirium returned.

And with it, the babbling. At first, the creature managed to produce only incoherent monosyllables and some angelic gibberish, but then proper words began to leave his lips.

" _Abba_..."  
"What?! Is he obsessed with disco music?"  
Sam rolled his eyes: "No! Dean, 'Abba' or 'Abbà' is an ancient Hebraic word. It means 'Dad', or 'Daddy'. In the Gospels, Jesus refers it to God. Cas is calling his Father."  
"Oh, ok! This I can understand. I could get over being awkward and nerdy, but disco...dude that thing sucks!"

Sam shot him his trademark bitchface but, before he could insult his brother for his sad attempt of humour, the angel's muttering stopped him. This time they both could understand it.

" _Pater Noster..."_

Praying. Castiel was praying.

" _Pater Noster...Qui est in coelis...santificetur Nomen Tuum...advegnat Regnum Tuum...fiat voluntas Tua...sicut in coelo et in terram...panem nostrum quotidianum...da nobis hodie... et ...dimitte...nobis...debita nostra.._ _sicut es nos...dimittimus...debitoribus nostris...e ne nos...inducas in tentatione...sed...libera nos a malo...Amen..."_

And then:

" _Pater...Pater...audi me!..Ne me defice...Pater...Te oro...audi me...ne exede...ne nos defice...ego cogo Tis...doleo...Pater...Te oro audi me!"_

His ramblings in Latin went on for a while but those specific words tore apart the brothers' hearts and Dean felt his eyes burning hot with a stinging sensation. He could relate too damn much: how many nights had he spent awake, waiting for his father to return? How many times had he prayed for him not to go away, not to leave him and Sammy alone? And then, how long had he clung onto the tiniest hope of him not being dead? Frankly, too many to count.

This time, adjusting the wet handkerchief on the angel's brow was a mere excuse for him to caress his head. It was only of secondary importance if said hand had come to rest on his hair while brushing it back. It was a very rare gesture for him, one that was saved for Sam. For a very sick Sam.

Dean knew far too well how heartbreaking does it feel to have an absent father.

So, screw chick-flick moments! Their angel, their adopted brother, was getting all the care they could offer.

Ignoring the stinging sensation in his eyes, the hunter kneeled next to the bed and held his friend's hand in his free one:

"Hey, Cas. Listen, I know it's very hard for you at the moment but hold on, don't give up on us. Ok, buddy? I know you're in pain and I know how scared and lonely you feel. I've been there and so has Sammy. You are not alone in this, ok? You are not alone. We're at your side and we'll damn straight be until you're fully recover. You gave up everything for us, it's time to return the favour. Come on, buddy, I'm going on full chick-flick mode for you! Please snap out of it. It's just a fever you're stronger than that!"

Dean's heartfelt speech produced no results and, when Bobby came into view with some breakfast for the boys, the angel was still out.

While the brothers ate, the older hunter gave to the ill creature a critical glance. Seeing no chances, he bent forward and let the palm of his hand linger above the heated forehead:

"Still no change, uh?"  
The Winchesters confirmed: "The fever's still high."  
"It's time to take it down the hard way, then."  
"Come on, Bobby! You wouldn't mean to dive him into an ice filled bathtub right now."  
"That's exactly what I meant, actually. Angel or not, this fever's too high. His…vessel, or whatever can't remain for long in this condition. Were it one of you, he would've already been 'dived', and you both know it."

Silence. The boys knew Bobby was way too right and couldn't find any way to protest, so they just kept eating.

"Ok. I'll take a run to the grocery store and grab some ice, then."

* * *

While Bobby was out to fetch the ice and Sam downstairs doing the dishes, Dean knelt again at his ill friend's bedside, took hold of a limp hand and rested his head on the mattress, next to him.

This time he only whispered softly: "Hey, Cas. I'm here, ok? I've got you. Sam's got you. We'll stay here until Gabriel's return. You…damn…you're like a brother for me…and also for Sam...we…just don't give up on us, ok? Just hold on a little longer, please. Just hold on. Hold on…" _We can't lose you, too_.

A small, single, unnoticed tear, escaped from the older Winchester's left eyelid and fell onto the sheets. A silent prayer that wouldn't have remained unanswered.

Some time later, Dean was startled by a hand that came to rest between his shoulder blades. He jumped into a sitting position, to find hid mastodontic younger brother standing behind him.

"Dude, personal space!"

The bitch ignored him and placed a hand on their friend's head: "Still nothing?"

The rumble of Bobby's car suffocated Dean's sarcastic answer and the boys had to run outside to help him discharge the truck.

Or, at least, to cease their surrogate father's barking of orders for them to do it.

Five minutes later, the bathtub was filled with cold water and ice cubes and the hunters were reunited in the angel's room.

Sam took the covers from Castiel's body and, as Dean lifted him into a sitting position, the angel's head lolled sideway and came to rest on his shoulder.

The younger brother closed the IV line and removed the wire, leaving only the small catheter, blocked with a small plastic stopper. Then, he moved toward the creature's bare feet and, collecting them with great care, started to lift him from the sweaty mattress, while Dean did the same with their friend's upper body.

While carrying him to the bathroom, they heard Bobby's instructions: "Don't waste any time stripping him: those clothes are to be washed. I'll get you some fresh ones."

Dean gave him a faint nod and they proceeded to immerge Castiel into the icy water, leaving only his head outside, with a folded towel on the tub's edge as a makeshift pillow. His immediate reaction was to draw in a sharp breath but that was it, his body sunk into the water and only the older Winchester's hands on his face's sides prevented him from drowning.

As Sam crouched down at the angel side, holding his bandaged hand out of the water, Dean splashed some cool water over the creature's flushed cheeks.

In a few minutes Castiel's body was trembling and then violently shaking. His teeth chattering.

Finally, after hours of fever-induced coma, his eyelids peered open and the blue iris came to rest on the older Winchester's face.

"D- Dean…"he managed to babble as the hunter laid a hand on his brow "I'm c- cold-d…I'm s-so c-c-cold…"  
"I know, I know…" Dean tried to soothe him, caressing the damp hair away from his forehead "It'll be okay, I promise. But now you need to remain there for a while…"  
"It hurts!"  
"Hey, Cas!" a gentle but firm squeeze around his left hand guided the angel's gaze toward a blurred, dark figure.  
"S-Sam?"  
"Yes, Cas. I'm here. Try to relax, ok? Concentrate on my voice. It'll be alright."

Sam kept on talking, effectively distracting the angel from the painful coolness of the tub, until Dean fetched a large towel from a closet nearby and spread it on the floor.

Then the men provided to lift their, soaked but feverless, friend and wrapped him into it. He was still shaking, so Dean pulled him close to his chest for warmth. Sam moved to the other room, where Bobby was tidying up. On the neatly made bed, were laying a pair of stripped pajama trousers and an old T-shirt. A very old and faded T-shirt. With a Confederate and a Northern soldier were facing each other, in a tribute to the Civil War.

Sam picked it up and frowned: "Seriously, Bobby?"  
"That's all I have to spare now, idjit! Besides, that boy's so strained that he'll never notice the print."

The Singer's prophecy reveled itself to be true when the brothers had to help Castiel to get dressed: once they finished and laid him back to rest, he was so exhausted that he barely even noticed when Dean reconnected the drip to his hand.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

The lines at the beginning are part of William Blake's _Little boy lost,_ from _Songs of Innocence._

The first Latin lines are the "Our Father". The others are translated below:

" _Father...Father...listen to me!..Do not forsake me...Father...I pray You...listen to me...don't go away...do not forsake us...I beg You...I'm in pain...Father...I pray You, listen to me!"_

A huge thank you to everybody who took the time to review, favorite and follow this: you are all awesome!

Please let me know what do you think of this.

We're running toward the end, only a couple more chapters, I think. Next one will be due in a pair of weeks and someone will make his return! Stay tuned!

Lots of love to everyone!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The Weird One doesn't own nor gain anything from this.**

 **As I promised: big return in this chapter! Enjoy, folks. And, a very Happy New Year to everybody!**

* * *

The next afternoon the angel was silent. Since the fever broke, he only woke twice: the first time to ask for a rosary, which was still held between his slack fingers, the second for something else. 

* * *

That second time still lingered in Dean's upset mind.

It was very late in the night, or very early in the morning, between the spasms Castiel had managed to pray his Rosary twice and was now sleeping, or making a frigging good impression of it. Both Winchesters were at his sides, none of them wanting to leave until their angel was feeling better, assisting him at their best in his ordeal.

Suddenly, dull, azure iris appeared under heavy eyelids and the creature whispered the brothers' names. Sam laid his large hand on the angel's bony shoulder and Dean took his hand.

"Is…Bobby…here?"came a barely audible whisper.  
"No, Cas. I think he might be sleeping now."  
"Then…call him…please…"  
"I don't know. He won't be very happy."  
"Please…it is…important…"the small plea was subdued by a faint squeeze of Dean's hand.

The hunter gave up and nodded to his brother, who challenged him into a "rock-paper-scissors" match. Neither of them wanted to be accidentally killed by their grumpy adoptive father in a burst of rage for being disturbed in his sleep. Sadly, this time Sam won the match and had to move into Bobby's bedroom to get him.

A long series of insults and curses followed short but, a couple minutes later, the housemaster made his appearance in a faded pajama and even more faded gray dressing gown. Not to mention his flannel slippers. As the younger Winchester moved to sit again at the other side of the angel, Bobby approached the creature's bed side and placed a hand on his covered knee, to advise him of his presence.

It was more and more like a vigil over someone's deathbed. A heavy silence permeated the room, interrupted only by Castiel's pained gasps. Finally, he managed to collect the strength to speak:

"I just…wanted to…to..thank you…everyone…of you for…taking…care of…me…while I'm in…this…sorry shape."  
"It's OK, Feathers."  
"Yeah, Cas."  
"Don't even mention it: you're family to us."  
The angel let out a shaky breath at the statement and a small tear fell from his left eye. Sam wiped it discretely away with his handkerchief.

The angel sighed and unconsciously leaned toward him. Not being as emotionally constipated as his brother, the hunter cupped the side of his head in his palm, making him open his tired eyes again.

"I…have…just one…last…request…"a grimace of pain contorted his features and left him panting miserably.  
"Hey! Shh, shh."  
"Easy, Cas, take it easy. Breathe."  
"Please…when I…I'll…please…return this body to the Novaks."  
"What?!"  
"Please! Jimmy's…already in Heaven…and I…I won't become a ghost…there…there's no need to burn it…please…his family will…mourn him properly…tell them…I'm sorry."

"No! Cas!" Dean squeezed the angel's hand tight, guiding his ageless, agonized blue eyes toward his tears filled ones.

"Dean…please…"  
"No. You will tell 'em! Just hold on for a couple hours: Gabriel's going to be here soon. He'll fix you up!"  
"Dean…I may not…make it. If I won't…please promise me…you'll bring this body to the Novaks."

The older Winchester didn't want to feed his friend's hopeless ramblings and would have denied. But, still, it would have been like frustrating a dying wish. So he nodded.

"Thank you."

Hell, he was grateful. If Cas would have survived this, Dean took a mental note to kick his ass later.

"Dean…please…come here…bow your head…"  
The hunter leaned forward and the angel placed his hands on the top of his head.  
"Let me…Bless you…"  
"What?! Nope! No, no, no and no! I-I don't deserve this, Cas."  
"There's… no… one…on this…Earth that deserve…it …more than…you…please…let…me…"  
"Okay, okay! Fine: do as you wish."

As soon as Dean bowed his head, the angel started chanting something and the hunter felt a warm wave of warm relief washing over him and settling in his chest. A blessed relief. He couldn't help but think about it. That peaceful feeling remained within him even when Cas removed his hands and let him sit back again.

He then proceeded to do the same with Sam, purifying him of the burden he carried since joining Ruby, leaving his eyes full of tears. Finally had been Bobby's turn. The old hunter had gingerly removed his nightcap and knelt beside the bed. When the angel retired his hands from his head he was almost smiling and the brothers would have sworn that some of the wrinkles on his face had disappeared.

But that effort had been too much for poor Castiel, who collapsed on his pillow like a young tree under a storm, and hadn't moved anymore. More than twelve hours had passed, and the creature was still unconscious. His uneven, shallow breaths the only sign of him being alive.

The brothers did their best to keep him as comfortable as possible: they tucked his bedsheets, held his hands, talked to him, drained the cold sweats from his pale forehead and silently prayed for him to pull through. But it was very late in the afternoon, Gabriel hadn't shown himself and it was starting to become quite clear that, at this rate, Castiel was not going to survive the night.

* * *

Now, Dean was holding the angel's still hand between his owns and Sam was standing with his arms folded on his chest, leaning onto the closet near the bathroom's door, unable to tear his gaze form the unmoving figure on the bed. Both were exhausted from losing almost two days of sleep, tense and bone-deep worried that the angel might pass away in any moment.

Sunset was peeling into the room from the only window, on the bed's left side –framed by the IV pole and the closet- caressing the fading angel's sunken cheeks with its warm orange, . His hand was limp in Dean's. His laboured breaths the only sound in the room.

Until Sam decided to break the silence with an exasperated sigh.  
"What?"  
"There must be something we can do! We can't just stay here and wait for him to…to…I can't, Dean…I just…it's too much…" and he collapsed onto the chair next to the IV, his face in his hands, his body shaken by sobs.

"Oh, Sammy!"

In their distraught state, the brothers missed the commotion of the front door being opened, of Bobby screaming at someone and of said someone stomping on the stairs. But there he were.  
Gabriel was back!

With a muffled rush of feathers, the archangel materialized himself at his brother's bedside. His gaze flew over Sam's tears striped face and Dean's pale one. "Ok, you two. Nappy nap time, now!"

With a snap of his finger he sent them into their room, where they appeared with a nightgown, night cap, fluffy slippers and a teddy bear each. Both in their beds ad solid asleep, as Gabriel hoped they would have remained until the next day.

So he could give his precious brother the attention he deserved. The poor creature looked so drained: his skin almost paler than the sheets that enveloped his body, his limbs emaciated and trembling, his chest heaving and his wings – once magnificent and astonishing – were reduced to mere inches of bone pointing from his back with a couple feathers barely hanging. It was so bad! He shouldn't have left.

"Oh, Cassie! " the archangel caressed his brother's hair away from his forehead and laid a soft kiss on his temple. When he proceeded to remove the rosary from his faint grip, his dull iris peered from heavy eyelids and came to rest on his face. The angel's mouth opened but no sound came out, only small gasps.

"Hush! Hush now, little one. I'm here. I'll take care of you."

Changing back into his pajama and minding the IV, Gabriel laid next to the lesser angel, cradling him into his arms and letting his head rest upon his heart. Castiel collapsed into the embrace, clinging at him for dear life, trembling like a puppy in the rain. The archangel pulled him even closer, drawing soothing circles on his back and whispering in his ear:

"Relax, babe, it's alright. I'm right here. That screwed bastard will never lay a finger on you again. I swear. Rest, now. Rest. I'll take care of you." And he used his Grace to transmit him protection, love and warm comfort, while his wings unconsciously moved to envelope them in a safe, invisible cocoon.

They spent the entire night holding each other but, the next morning, Castiel hadn't improved. He just hadn't got worse.

Gabriel opted for an extreme solution.

Now, he only needed that narcoleptic apes to wake up. It was humiliating but he knew he needed their help if he wanted his little brother to get better.

Without said apes, his little brother wouldn't have gotten sick, to begin with. Technically, it was not their whole fault if the Host had rejected him and his desperate search for God had strained him beyond reason, frustrating his hopes of rejoining his Father. Then, there was the whole question of Zachass torturing him, of Raphael all but shattering his molecules all around a room and of Gabriel himself putting him into almost unbearable situations. In the end, it all had become too much and the angel had collapsed, in every sense.

* * *

Soon, he started to hear a commotion from the next room. He barely had the time to jump off of the bed and change into his usual attire before two enraged Winchesters stormed inside. Seeing the brothers enveloped by those long gowns and carrying teddy bears was a more than amusing sight, but now Gabriel couldn't afford the time to fully appreciated it and sapped them back into their usual denim and flannel. He let them keep the bears.

"Now, before the two of you decide to jump at my throat, I would like to ask your help…"  
"You sneaky son of a bitch!"  
"Calm you spirits, Dean-o. A teddy bear isn't very menacing."  
"Cut it short, Gabriel! How's Cas?"

The archangel returned immediately serious and, casting a worried glance to the huddled figure in the bed, sighed: "Not doing so good, I'm afraid. He just hasn't got worse."  
"So? What's the plan?"  
"At this point I have only one option left."  
"But?"  
"But is going to be dangerous and I'll need your help to make sure he won't get hurt."  
"For hell's sake! What exactly are you planning to do to him?"  
"Get Papa Beaver up here and I'll explain. We're going to need him too and I don't want to repeat myself."

Dean threw the teddy bear he was unconsciously still carrying in a corner and ran down, screaming for Bobby on the way. Under Sam's puzzled stare, Gabriel knelt next to the bed, whispering encouragements into his brother's ear and fondly caressing his head.

The younger Winchester would have wanted to say something, anything that could relieve the sense of grief that permeated the room.

Before a sound could pass his parted lips, Bobby and Dean ran inside, the former panting lightly, and the archangel raised to his feet.

"Ok" He stared "Now that everybody's here I'm going to explain what my plan consists of: as you can see, poor little Cas' Grace has consumed to the point its barely keeping his vessel alive and, despite our efforts, now there is no hope for it to heal by itself. Let me be honest: if we don't intervene immediately, my brother will die within the day. To avoid this, I'm going to carve out a piece of my own Grace…don't freak out, apes! I know what I'm saying!...And it will fuse with his. With this 'power up' he'll have the strength to heal, though it will require some time."

"Has it ever been done before?"  
"Nein! Niet! Nada! Never in History!"  
"…"

Removed his jacket and rolling the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow, Gabriel rolled his eyes and grunted, adding: "Neither I like the idea but it's our best shot…not to mention the only one we've got. So, you're gonna help or what?"

Simultaneously, the three men took a step toward the bed.

"Excellent! Help me turn him on his back…ok, ok, perfect…now…Bernie – or, whatever your name is – brace his legs and make sure he moves them as less as possible. You, BFG! Tuck the covers around his midsection, expose his chest! Great! Now sprawl over and hold his arms still: I don't want him to hurt himself or to tear away that needle trashing around. Dean!" For once, turning to face the older Winchester, the former Trickster's glare looked deadly serious: "Hold his head and shoulders, don't let him arch his back and watch out for his neck. Also, try to reassure him, tell him no one is hurting him and" he removed his belt "Give him this to bite on: he's going to need it."

The hunter nodded and placed the leather strip in his friend's slack mouth.

"Finally, there's a fair chance I'll pass out when this is over, just throw me on that armchair and I'll be fine. Everyone's ready? Great: let's dance!"

After a moment of concentration, the archangel began chanting something in Enochian and a warm, golden aura started enveloping his right hand. Taking a deep breath, he immerged it in the lower angel's chest.

The process must have been excruciating because Castiel's body tensed immediately and then began convulsing as if in a seizure, his eyes open wide and his teeth clenched on the belt. Dean had to press some of his weight on his shoulders to avoid him moving too much but his soothing words seemed to have an effect as the angel's gaze focused on him and the creature calmed down a bit.

It lasted only a few minutes then Gabriel, who was looking on the verge to scream out himself, retired his hand and stumbled away, only Bobby's steadying hands on his arms preventing him form falling. The old hunter guided him to the armchair, where he sprawled, gasping heavily and covered in sweat. Clearly exhausted.

On the bed, Castiel, had collapsed again on his pillows but his breathing was easier and a little colour had returned to his complexion. Sam took his wrist to check his pulse and found it: slow but steady, and still there. Sighing with relief, he laid it back on the bedding, patting softly the angel's hand as he did so.

"Is he alright?" the archangel managed to pant out.  
Sam nodded: "Yeah, fine. He seems to be asleep."  
"Good!"gasped the other "Good…let him rest…he'll be…just fine!"and he passed out into the armchair, while Bobby draped a blanket over him and Dean set the folded belt onto his lap.

Then the brothers turned to manhandle the sleeping angel on the bed, carefully reposition him so that he could rest more comfortably. They tucked the sheets and comforter around his shoulders, changed his drip's bag and left the room. Bobby closed the door behind the three of them, leaving the drained angels to rest.

* * *

The atmosphere was dense of tension and waiting and the hunters consumed their lunch in silence.

A couple hours later, the brothers moved to the guest's bedroom to check on their friends. Gabriel was still out cold but, to their greatest relief, Castiel was stirring in his bed.

The brothers ran to his sides, Dean to the left and Sam to the right. Slowly, he managed to peer his eyes open and the brothers were thankful to see that his iris had lost their dullness. Castiel turned his glare between the brothers focusing on their faces.

"Dean…Sam…"he managed to whisper before his shape was caught by a nasty spell of dry cough "Water, please…water…"he gasped, between the coughs. Dean grasped the jug on the nightstand and poured him a glass of water, while Sam gently, with great care, lifted the angel's head so that his brother could raise the glass to his lips.

"Here, Cas. Here .Take it easy, buddy, small sips."

Slowly, the angel finished his water and Sam laid him back on the pillows. Then they both sat on the bed, next to him.

The older Winchester cleared his throat and asked: "So, Cas. How are you feeling?"  
Under the covers, the angel's right hand raised to his chest, almost grasping the T-shirt he was wearing: "Confused, dizzy, my chest feels a little sore and my Grace…what did Gabriel do to me?"  
"He…well…he…"  
"He took a bit of his own Grace and fused it with yours. He said this was the only way for you to heal."  
"He saved your life, that douchebag! Who would have thought?"  
"Dean!"  
"Where is he now?"  
"Sprawled on that armchair, over there! Out as a…wait, man! Where do you think you're going?!"  
"He's right, Cas: you're still too weak. Stay put, buddy. Stay put an relax: Gabe said you need to rest."

Catching a glimpse of his sleeping brother, the angel laid back again and motioned toward the discharged book on the nightstand.

Sam took it up and read a whole chapter, lulling him to sleep.

Castiel had just closed his eyelids when his older brother jumped up, throwing his blanket on the floor an cheering: "What about That Thing, then?"

* * *

 **The Weird One's notes:**

 **Ok, folks. Just one more chapter after this. This story turned out way longer than I expected!**

 **A huge "thank you" to everyone who took the time to read, review, favorite or follow this story: it really means a lot to me.**

 **May everyone of you have a lovely New Year!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** To gain or not to gain? This is the answer: 'tis but a mere personal diversion. No money or other material good derived me from this. This person doesn't own the characters nor the songs quoted here.

I apologize for the delaying but my poor health struck again during Winter's Session. (Ugh! Just: ugh!)

 **There we are then: this is the end, my only friend: The End.**

It took a whole day for Cas to regain full consciousness. But two days after Gabriel's procedure he could sit up without help and that evening, after the archangel decided it was time to remove the IV, he even managed to wash himself and change his pajama.

But he was still extremely fatigued and, even if conscious and alert, spent a lot time in bed.

Following Gabriel's orders, the hunters fed him some tomato rice soup, some sandwiches and a couple bowls of Bobby Singer's trademark stew. He accepted everything gratefully and ate without problems, displaying how weak his Grace still was.  
His body, on the other hand, was starting to regain some of the weight it lost and, though still gaunt, his face was regaining some colour.

* * *

One cloudy morning, a few days after the procedure, the angel was dozing in a half sitting position with "The Lord of the Rings" opened in his lap, on the folded covers.  
A gentle knock on the door roused him and, mere seconds later, Castiel felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder. He didn't need to open his eyes to understand who it belonged to.

"Dean"  
"Hey, buddy. How're you holding up?"  
"Fine, I think. I'm still very tired."  
"Would you like to come with me and Sam downstairs?"  
"Why?"  
"Actually, it's a surprise."  
"Oh"

The angel tilted his head in confusion and his eyebrows knitted together while he squinted his eyes. It took him a moment to decide, but Dean was willingly to let him take all the time he needed: just seeing him alive and speaking was a wonderful gift for him.

"I think I'll enjoy the variation but…"  
"But?"  
"I'm not sure I can walk. I still feel very dizzy every time I try to stand."  
"There's no problem, Sam and I imagined that could have been a problem and figured out a solution. Here, let me help."

Dean lifted the angel into a sitting position, helped him wear a button down flannel shirt, for it was a little chilling outside, and proceeded to blindfold him. As his fingers curiously probed the strip of cloth on his face, Castiel tilted again his head in confusion.

Giggling, the hunter moved his friend's hands away and reassured it: "It's only to not spoil you the surprise. Now hold tight."

And he passed his arms behind Castiel's shoulders and knees, picking him up without much effort.

 _I'm the one who lifted you up and carried you away from your bed_ , he found himself thinking realizing how small his gesture was compared to what the creature in his arms had done for him. The once powerful angel that braved the fire and horrors of Hell's Pit to rescue his soul was now huddled against his chest, his arms around his neck and his bare feet hanging limply from the crook of his arm.  
It was so wrong, so unfair.

Cradling the silent creature, Dean carefully made it at the bottom of the staircase, where Sam was waiting for them behind "Flash", Bobby's former wheelchair.

After his brother gently deposed the angel on Flash and laid a blanket on his legs, Sam wheeled him outside, where Gabriel and Bobby where had disposed That Thing.

Right after hearing the back door closing behind them, Castiel was invested by a whiffle of wind that made him shiver. So Dean removed his jacket and laid it on his shoulders as he nodded his thanks. Actually, it was around noon and the air wasn't that much cold, but the creature's body was still so weakened that the boys didn't want to risk him to get sick.

Fortunately, it took only a short walk before the curtain of reality was washed away by a warm cascade of rain and the brothers with their angel found themselves in a warm and sunny place.

"Where are we?"

Before answering Castiel's question, Dean picked him up from Flash and gently deposed him on a blanket, under a tree, then proceeded to remove his blindfold.

It took a while, and much blinking, for his eyes to get used to the light but eventually the angel found himself in a beautiful garden, full of every kind of flowers and trees, next to a spring. The weather was wonderful: warm but not hot since a gentle breeze was flowing.  
He was sitting on a patchwork blanket laid on the grass under a magnificent oak. Next to him, Bobby was disposing some dishes for what seemed to be a picnic, Dean was crouched at his other side and Sam was stretching behind him, in front of them stood Gabriel, smiling proudly.

In his confused state Castiel realized too late that the older Winchester was talking to him and caught only the ending of his explanation:  
"…and so, Gabriel decided to create this pocket dimension in Bobby's backyard. Got it?"

The angel nodded distractedly and, supporting himself with the tree, managed to stand and to walk toward his brother, collapsing in his arms, hugging him tight and hiding his face on his shoulder.  
The archangel cupped the back of his dark haired head and placed a kiss on the top of it as he cradled his younger brother against his shorter frame.

After those two awful weeks the Winchesters, Bobby, and their angelic friends all needed to relax and spent in Gabriel's dimension a whole afternoon – which felt like a week in the real one - eating, playing catch and even hide and seek.

Castiel was overwhelmed. His feelings were so intense that he almost thought to be in Heaven, with his brothers. Except…  
Except he really was in Heaven, in his own, personal one, with the family he choose and that had chosen him.

No more cold, detached stares, no more harsh orders, no more punishments, no more pain. No more reeducation.

Now, he was free to be himself without anyone judging him, he was free to love and feel loved, to protect and be protected. He was free to smile and cry.

He was free to feel happy while Dean's laugh, Bobby's huffs and Sam's smile at Gabriel jokes guided him in Morpheus' arms as he closed his eyes, too worn to keep them open. He didn't even flinch when Sam – being the most fit of them - picked him up and carried him back to his room bridal style.

Later than evening, Bobby managed to sneak a pick of the four boys: while Cas was still asleep under the covers, Sam was sitting next to him and reading a novel, Dean was sprawled over their legs with is nose dived into another book – which the older hunter was suspecting to contain an adult magazine at this point – and Gabriel was on his brother's other side, playing with a sort of labyrinth toy he fished from one of his pockets.

The younger angel was surrounded by the warmth of the other boys and, finally, seemed at peace. About time! He had suffered too much in Singer's opinion.

In the back of his mind, the man knew that their fight was just about to begin and soon that frail peace would have been shattered, perhaps forever. The future ahead was looking grim and he felt like soon his boys were to face most difficult choices, sacrifice and pain.

Yeah! The future.

But now, Bobby discarded those thoughts with a shake of his head and closed the door behind him. While on his way to the kitchen to make some dinner, in the privacy of his weirdly quiet home, the hunter left a smile distending his features: that day his boys and Gabriel had gifted him the best thing he could ever want. They had given him hope.

* * *

The following days saw Castiel's strength improving until Gabriel declared him well enough to help the boys on the next hunt.

This meant also that was time for the archangel to take off again and return to wherever he may have been roaming before.

He left on a cold morning of Late Summer, exactly ten days after transplanting a piece of his Grace into his little brother's.  
No tears were shed that morning. Only a warm hug between the angels while Castiel took comfort for the last time against his brother's chest. His wings, now returned to their original raven splendor, enveloped their joined bodies but Gabriel's where even huger and covered them.  
"Take care of yourself."  
"You too, little one. And remember: we will never be apart. Whenever you'll need me I'll be there. Ok?"  
The lesser angel nodded.

Their arms detangled and, with a last goodbye to the brothers and Bobby, Gabriel flew away.

Castiel remained motionless, his eyes stuck to the point where his brother stood a moment before.

He nearly jumped when he perceived Dean's sudden presence behind him.  
"It's a pity!" he said "I was almost starting to like him."  
Both Sam and Cas turned to him with questioning expressions and he shuddered.  
"I said: 'almost'! "

The day after, it was Team Free Will's turn to leave.  
Sam had found a case: suddenly people in Madison had started crying black tears before dying without apparent reason. It was worth the trip.

So they left.  
Dean at the driving.  
Sam shotgun.  
Castiel on the backseat.

Bobby watched the black Impala moving towards the horizon. The strong gear rumbling and the radio blasting at full volume:

 _We're halfway there!  
Livin on a prayer!  
Take my hand, we'll make it – I swear_

 _Livin on a prayer!  
_

\- The End –

 **The Bunny Master's notes:**

 **The scene with the photo taken by Bobby was inspired by this gorgeous fan art:**

 **post/46687686166/msredvinesblack-i-took-one-look-at-gabes-face**

 **I looked and searched and looked again but I was unable to find the author. Kudos to them by me, anyways!**

* * *

 **Here we are.  
It's been almost an year: I recall starting to write this on last Holy Thursday and tomorrow will be Ash Wednesday. **

**Wow! I would have never imagined my humble work could be so highly appreciated by wonderful people like you ( I would write all your usernames but I don't remember them! Sorry. My bad! ) :**

 **Who took the time to read this**

 **Who took the time to review**

 **Who took the time to correct my errors**

 **Who sent me positive thoughts**

 **Who collaborated with your suggestions.**

 **Who are reading this. You are the best! Lots Of Love!**

 **If you have suggestion for any new fiction, feel free to PM me and let me know!**

 **So, what can I say except: you're welcome! *You're welcome!* You're welcome!**

 **And THANK YOU!**

 ***bows gracefully and leaves the stage*  
**


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